Military School
by Griffindorrox
Summary: Harry is sent to a military reform school the year before he goes to Hogwarts.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, this is my first fic on this site, so sorry if everyone thinks it's rubbish! I guess that's sort of the point of fanfiction; letting people write what they want and possibly share it with others who are also slightly obsessed with the original content. **

**In this story, Harry is sent to a military reform school due to his 'terrible behaviour' in Little Whinging. It is AU, but I'm also using a couple of fairly common - I think - headcanons, including one that depicts Harry as black, or at least dark-skinned, as well as a few others that come into play later in the story. This will roughly follow the events of the Philosopher's stone with a few changes for the plot. I am hoping to make this into a series covering all 7 books, and the plots should begin to diverge a lot more later on, but the way this one has been progressing it seems to be mostly following canon so far.**

**My life and schedule doesn't really let me have a structured plan for updates (read: I'm disorganised and don't always have time to sit and write every week) but I pretty much have up to the end of Philosopher's stone at least planned out if not written, so ****I'll try and keep it sort of regular. Harry won't reach Hogwarts until around chapter 20 in this fic, which is looking to be at least 40 chapters long, so if you're looking for a story that is based mainly in Hogwarts and immediately jumps into the events of book one this probably isn't the fic for you - you could argue it's more like an original work using fandom characters for the first 15-20 chapters.**

**I don't have a beta, but I read through my work a lot to check for errors, and microsoft word is usually pretty good at catching grammar and spelling mistakes, but I apologise if there are any I've missed. Leave a review or PM me if you see one and I'll fix it as soon as I can (or just accept that in amateur fanfic writing there's going to be mistakes and move on, but I know that it's really annoying when there are mistakes and I'm happy to sort them out, especially if it's a big plot hole or something that just doesn't make sense!)**

**I know you don't really care about any of this, so hope you enjoy!**

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Harry looked over his shoulder to see that the 4 boys were gaining on him. He grimaced and ran harder, sprinting around a corner and almost bowling into elderly Mr. Rodgers. Without stopping to apologise, he turned towards the school kitchens. There were big, metal bins behind the building, if he could reach them he might be able to jump behind them and hide from Dudley and his gang...

He jumped, and looked over his shoulder for Dudley.

And saw the roof of the school kitchens.

His stomach dropped and he nearly fell off.

Harry flattened himself to the roof, and peered over the edge, thinking hard. He could see Dudley, Malcolm, Dennis and Gordon standing by the big bins he had been trying to jump behind. He was happy to see that Piers hadn't been able to follow him after he kicked him in the stomach.

"Where'd he go?" Dudley demanded, rounding on the members of his gang.

"I dunno." Dennis said, looking around.

"He just like, disappeared!" Gordon exclaimed.

"Well how did that happen?" Dudley spat. Harry wanted to hear the answer to that too.

"I dunno." Dennis repeated.

"Let's just go, Dudley." Malcolm said, already turning back the way they had come.

"But Potter-" Dudley began.

"I don't care about Potter, if we don't hurry up we won't get on the swings!" Malcolm whined.

"What are we waiting for then?" Gordon moaned. "Come _on_."

Harry watched them leave, relieved. Then he realised that he was up on the roof of the kitchen, with no way to get down. How had he gotten up in the first place? Perhaps the wind had caught him...no, that was ridiculous; there was no wind.

He scanned the flat roof, looking for a way down. He would be in _so_ much trouble if the school had to call the fire brigade to get him down.

Cautiously, he crawled closer to the edge and peered down. It seemed like a long, long way away. There was no way he'd be able to jump it.

He carefully stood up, and walked further down the roof, towards the playground, hoping for a way down.

"Potter!" A voice shouted. Harry jumped and wobbled as he span to face the voice. He looked down over the roof, and saw Mrs. Galloway staring up at him, red-faced in anger. "What are you doing on the roof?" She spat "Get down this instant!"

Harry spied a ladder leaning against the wall a few metres in front of him, and carefully walked towards it, then climbed down.

Mrs. Galloway was waiting for him at the bottom.

She grabbed his baggy school jumper and pulled him along with her. "Never... in all my time..." She seemed incapable of forming coherent sentences as she dragged him into the school building. "What on earth were you doing on the roof!"

Harry didn't say anything; he was still trying to work out what he had been doing on the roof himself.

Mrs. Galloway huffed as she led him down the school corridors.

A girl in Harry's class was taking a book out of her backpack on one of the hooks on the wall. She turned and saw Mrs. Galloway, and opened her mouth to say something, but Mrs. Galloway cut her off. "I'm on my way to the headmaster at the moment, Sophie."

"Ok miss." Sophie nodded, disappointed. She turned and began walking down the corridor.

Harry was pulled along by Mrs. Galloway, passing other pupils who watched as he was manhandled through the school. A few whispered to each other, giggling or rolling their eyes.

"Christopher, Mathew, no running inside!" Mrs. Galloway called as two boys raced down the corridor, and they slowed to a walk with a half-hearted apology. "Come along, Potter."

They stopped outside a blue door with a metal plaque reading 'Headmaster'. Mrs Galloway knocked sharply on the painted wood, and there was a quiet "come in" from the other side. She opened the door rather harder than was necessary, and pushed Harry inside. "Good morning, Helen." The headmaster smiled. Mr. Fischer was a short, balding man, with dark skin and a waxed moustache that curled at the ends. His eyes fell on Harry and the smile vanished. "Potter." He said curtly. "What have you done this time?"

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Mrs. Galloway interrupted. "I found him on the kitchen roof!" She cried angrily.

The headmaster sat up straighter in his chair. "Did you now?" He sighed. "Sit down, Potter." Harry slipped into the hard wooden chair in front of Mr. Fischer's desk. "Do you want to stay, Helen?"

Mrs. Galloway sniffed. "I think I've been present in enough of these meetings, if it's all the same to you, Headmaster."

"Haven't we all." Mr. Fischer sighed, rubbing his forehead

Harry Heard Mrs. Galloway leave, keeping his eyes fixed on a spot on the headmaster's desk.

"Well then, Potter." Mr. Fischer began, and Harry looked up to see him flicking through a filing cabinet behind the desk. He resisted the urge to say 'what' and instead watched as the headmaster pulled the thickest folder out of the metal cabinet and set it on the desk between them. "Do you know what this is?"

Harry sighed. He wasn't completely stupid. "My file or something, I guess"

Mr. Fischer frowned. "Don't you take that tone with me, boy, you're already in enough trouble as it is." He opened the folder and began flicking through it. "You know, normally people don't actually have their own folder, it's everybody who's surname starts with the same letter in one, makes it easier to sort, you see." Mr. Fischer looked up at Harry.

"Okay..." Harry said, unsure as to why he was being told all this.

"But you, Potter, have such a disregard for rules, and history of disciplinary issues, that you get your _own_." He held up the ring binder as if to prove his point, then began flicking through the pages again. "Running in the corridors... swearing... fighting... cheating... another fight... oh, and another one... _vandalism_... homework not handed in... stealing... more swearing... fighting..." The headmaster looked up. "You see my point?"

"That's only like ten things." Harry said defensively. It wasn't _his_ fault his uncle never let him do his homework, or that Dudley always picked fights with him and tried to beat him up, or that the other children made fun of him for the colour of his skin.

"That was one term." Mr. Fischer said.

"Yeah, but-"

Mr. Fischer held up a hand. "Potter, I reckon you could be a smart kid, even if you never do your homework." Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Mr. Fischer raised an eyebrow and continued. "But you've been in seven fights this half of term already, I've suspended you four times in the six years you've been at this school, and I know that your conduct at home is not much better. I have given you three final warnings for your behaviour. And now this with climbing on school property. I'm just not sure this school is the right one for you."

"What do you mean?"

Mr. Fischer sighed. "I'm going to arrange a meeting with you par- guardians this afternoon. You won't need to come back to school tomorrow." The headmaster rose and moved around the desk. "Sally!"

The door opened and Mr. Fischer's young secretary poked her head into the office. "Yes, sir?"

Mr. Fischer rested a hand on Harry's shoulder as he stood up. "Could you take Potter back to his class please, and then arrange a meeting with the Dursleys later."

"Of course. Come on Harry."

"I can walk back to my classroom by myself." Harry frowned, shrugging off Mr. Fischer's hand.

"I am sure you are capable, Potter, but Sally will walk you there anyway."

Harry sighed. "Fine." He followed the young receptionist out of the large office and down the corridors in silence, his hands in his shorts pockets, strands of hair hiding most of his face.

"Well, here you go." Sally said, stopping at his classroom door. The rest of his class were already scribbling away on worksheets.

"Thanks." Harry said dully.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry sat next to Aunt Petunia, swinging his feet absently.

Mr Fischer was talking. "As I said to your nephew earlier, I'm just not sure this is the best school for him, Mrs. Dursley. He needs more help than we can offer him here."

Aunt Petunia nodded, and Harry could see fake tars in her eyes. "He's always been a difficult child. We've tried our hardest, Vernon and I, but-" She broke off, burying her face in a lace handkerchief.

"Some children just need a stronger hand." Mr. Fischer said kindly. "I don't think there's anything you and your husband could have done differently. Taking the boy in as you did was admirable as it is."

"I just don't know what we're going to do with him." Aunt Petunia sobbed.

Harry tried to block them out. He hated the way they were talking about him as if he wasn't sitting right next to them. He jerked up when he heard Mr. Fischer's next comment.

"Have you thought about sending him to a military school, or reform school? They're meant to... sort out... _troubled youths_ such as your nephew."

"And how do they do that?" Aunt Petunia asked, and Harry was shocked to see that she looked genuinely interested in the idea. Surely she wouldn't send him to some sort of military school?

"Well, my brother sent his son to one actually, and apparently they keep the boys in line through a combination of strict discipline and physical correctional methods. I have a couple of leaflets here if you're interested."

Aunt Petunia took the leaflets and read through them. "I think this looks like a possible solution." She said carefully, then smiled at Mr. Fischer. "Thank you."

"Not at all Mrs. Dursley." Mr. Fischer stood and shook Aunt Petunia's hand.

"Come on." Aunt Petunia said as she walked to the door, and Harry scrambled after her.

"Potter." Mr. Fischer called as he reached the door. Harry looked around. "I hope that school does you some good."

Harry wasn't sure what to say, so he hurried after Aunt Petunia.

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked once they were in the car driving back to Privet Drive.

"What?" She snapped.

"Will... are you really going to send me to military school?" He asked quietly.

"We'll see what your uncle thinks." She replied shortly. "And don't ask questions."

"Sorry."

"Besides, you've been _expelled _from St. Grogory's, so we'll have to see where else will take you, blasted thing that you are."

Harry was silent for the rest of the short commute back to Privet Drive, and went straight to the cupboard under the stairs when the arrived. He glanced at the clock on the wall before he slipped inside, and realised he had at least an hour until Uncle Vernon got home. His aunt would spend most of that time watching television or spying on the neighbours, and then she would watch as Harry made dinner.

The ten-year-old sighed and lay on his stomach on the small camp bed in the cupboard, playing quietly with the broken knights on the shelf by his head as he thought about the day's events.

It had started as a very good day; he had been woken up at 6:30 by Aunt Petunia, and had dressed in his school uniform, before doing Dudley's homework and making breakfast for his relatives. He had managed to get some of his own homework done before Uncle Vernon had thundered down the stairs and demanded coffee. At school, the other children had tried to stay away from him as he got his books out and attempted to do some more of his homework before Mr. Benson came in and told everyone to sit down. Nobody had sat next to him, as usual, and Harry managed to get all of his worksheets done in the lesson, as Dudley had been distracted by pulling Mary Thornton's pigtails. Everything had been going well until breaktime, when Dudley and his gang had cornered Harry on the playground. He had managed to escape by kicking Piers and running through the gap in their circle, before he had found himself on the roof, and had been expelled from St. Grogory's Primary school.

And now he was well on his way to being shipped off to some military boarding school.

Harry didn't think he was that badly behaved, although seeing his folder had given him a new perspective on how others would see him. But none of it was really his fault. It only _seemed_ like he copied Dudley because he did Dudley's homework, and could he really be blamed for swearing when Uncle Vernon didn't seem capable of stringing together two sentences without cursing?

Harry rolled onto his back, and heard a car pulling up on the gravel drive. He stared up at the underside of the stairs and listened as Uncle Vernon came inside and Aunt Petunia took his coat.

They moved into the kitchen and Uncle Vernon started telling his wife about all of the drills he had managed to sell that day as she made him a cup of tea.

"Where's Dudders?"

"At the Gibbs'." Aunt Petunia replied. "I had a meeting with Mr. Fischer, so he went to play with Gordon. He should be back soon."

"What meeting?" Uncle Vernon asked. Harry winced.

"It was about _Harry_." Aunt Petunia sniffed, saying Harry's name as if it was some kind of disgusting disease.

"What's the prick gone and done this time?" Uncle Vernon sneered. 'Prick' was one of Uncle Vernon's favourite names for him, along with 'ponce', 'mutt' and 'fag'.

"He's been expelled."

There was a moment's silence, and Harry could almost _hear _Uncle Vernon's face going from red, to green, to purple. "Boy!" He roared.

Harry sat up and pushed his long frizzy hair out of his eyes. He opened the cupboard door and stepped out, before slowly shutting it behind him again. He could feel his uncle's eyes on the back of his head as he turned around and stepped into the kitchen.

Uncle Vernon was sitting at the table, his face a deep purple behind his bushy moustache. "Explain." His voice was deadly quiet.

Harry swallowed, and opened his mouth to answer but was saved by Dudley, who opened the front door with a bang.

"Mu-um! I'm back!" He screamed unnecessarily.

"In the kitchen Sweetums!" Aunt Petunia called back.

Dudley waddled into the kitchen. "Hi dad."

"How was Gordon's?" Uncle Vernon asked him, his face back to a healthier colour.

Dudley shrugged. "Alright. He's got Alien Blaster _four_ on Playstation! Alien Blaster _four_? That only came out like, last week. Why haven't _I _got Alien Blaster four! What are you doing here weirdo? Go away." Dudley barged into Harry, who scowled at him but retreated to his cupboard, glad of the excuse to get away from the conversation in the kitchen.

"More wine, Petunia?" Uncle Vernon asked that evening at dinner.

"Yes, why not."

Uncle Vernon clicked his fingers. "Boy, more wine."

Harry placed the bottle on the table in front of him as he picked up the bowls to put in the dishwasher.

"Well? Aren't you going to pour it for me?" Uncle Vernon glared. He tutted. "No discipline."

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that." Aunt Petunia said as Harry filled their glasses. "The boy's discipline. That Mr. Fischer has come up with a wonderful solution."

"And what's that?" Uncle Vernon asked as he grabbed his wine glass.

"Military school. Boy, get those leaflets."

Harry reluctantly handed her the leaflets. "I really don't think that-" He began weakly.

"Yes, well, nobody gives two shits what you think half-cast." Uncle Vernon snapped. He took the leaflets from his wife and began looking through them. He hummed as he read them, and looked at Harry with a mean smile when he was finished, then turned to his wife. "I think you're right, this is exactly what the boy needs."

Harry seethed as they began talking about his as if he wasn't there again. He turned to walk out of the kitchen but was stopped by his uncle. "Did I say you could fucking leave?"

Harry turned back to him. "No, but I assumed-"

"Well un-assume it you little prick." Harry stood with his hands curled into fists in his pockets as his uncle turned back to Aunt Petunia. "Where abouts is this... school?" He waved one of the leaflets.

"It's in Wales somewhere."

Uncle Vernon hummed appreciatively. "And it's a state school?"

Aunt Petunia nodded. "No fees."

"Perfect." Uncle Vernon smiled nastily and turned to Harry. "Pack your fucking bags, ponce. You're going to military school."

All too soon, Harry was sat in the back of his aunt's Nissan as they drove through winding country lanes, still not quite able to believe what was happening to him.

The few signposts he had seen recently had all had the names of places he couldn't even try to pronounce, with one vowel for every four words, and the rain pelting the roof and windows of the car seemed to echo his mood. He felt like they had been driving for hours, and neither his aunt or his uncle had spoken a word to him since Aunt Petunia had ordered him to put his bag in the boot and put his seatbelt on.

The radio had been on for the first three hours of their journey, but as they got closer to Llangollen it dissolved into static, and Uncle Vernon had turned it off.

"We're here." Aunt Petunia said, and Harry looked out of the window as they pulled into a long gravel drive. There was a large sign next to the gates reading _'Coleshill Military Reformatory Academy'_. The drive led up to a huge red brick house, surrounded by fields full of boys running and doing exercises in the rain, supervised by tall men with umbrellas.

Uncle Vernon looked back at Harry and smiled cruelly. "Like what you see?" Harry didn't answer, his eyes fixed on the people outside. One of the adults was screaming at a boy as he did press-ups in the mud. "This place'll sort you the fuck out." Uncle Vernon continued. "And there'll be tons of other fags, I reckon, so you won't be alone."

They were met at the end of the drive by a tall, muscled man holding a large umbrella. He was wearing a military parade uniform with two medals pinned to his chest, and had a cane in the hand not holding the umbrella. "You must be Mr. and Mrs. Dursley." He said. "I'm Brigadier O'Reilly, why don't we go inside?" He held the umbrella over Aunt Petunia as Harry grabbed his blue duffle bag out of the boot. Harry followed the three adults up a set of stone steps and through a large oak door, and flicked his long hair out of his eyes when they were out of the torrential rain.

Inside, they came to a reception, a middle-aged woman with her greying hair pulled into a bun sitting behind a large desk tapping away at a computer. She looked up as they entered.

"Can I get you some tea, or coffee?" The brigadier offered, putting the umbrella in a wooden stand.

"No, thank you." Aunt Petunia shook her head, and the receptionist went back to her typing.

"I trust the drive wasn't too bad?" Brigadier O'Reilly said as he began leading them down a corridor, his cane making a loud 'thunk' every time it hit the floor.

"Not at all." Aunt Petunia replied, looking around at the polished wooden floors and pristine white walls.

They stopped outside a wooden door with a brass plaque reading _'Brig. T. O'Reilly'_. Brigadier O'Reilly pushed open the door to reveal an office, with a thick cream carpet, large mahogany desk, a sofa, metal filing cabinets, two wooden chairs, and shelves full of books lining three walls. The fourth wall held a large window overlooking the grounds of the school, and Harry could see boys running around an athletics track in the rain.

"Do take a seat." Brigadier O'Reilly gestured to the wooden chairs in front of the desk as he sat in the luxurious seat behind it.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon sat in the indicated chairs, leaving Harry to stand to one side holding his bag.

Brigadier O'Reilly took off his hat and folded his hands on the desk. "I received your e-mail concerning your son, and it will-"

"Nephew." Uncle Vernon interrupted.

"I'm sorry?"

"The little twerp is our nephew, not our son. I mean look at him."

"I see. Well, I received your e-mail concerning your nephew, and it will not be a problem for us to take him, even part-way through term. I recognise the necessity of getting him into a school as soon as possible." The Brigadier nodded understandingly. "It is not common for us to take somebody his age, I think we have only accepted three ten-year-olds before him, but with the particular set-up of the school environment at Coleshill he will be fine."

Harry looked around the room and tapped his hands against his legs as Brigadier O'Reilly talked about 'moulding him into a respectable member of society through a programme of intense discipline and education'.

He shook his head and adjusted his hold on his duffle bag when his aunt and uncle stood up and shook Brigadier O'Reilly's hand. "Susan, my receptionist, will show you out." He told them.

Uncle Vernon turned to Harry. "We'll see you in the summer, poof."

Aunt Petunia didn't say anything as Brigadier O'Reilly held the office door open for her, and Uncle Vernon followed her out. The receptionist was waiting outside, and Harry watched the three of them walk down the corridor until Brigadier O'Reilly closed the door and turned to him. Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and looked the tall man in the eye.

"Potter, isn't it?" Brigadier O'Reilly asked as he sat down behind the desk again.

"Yes." Harry nodded, slipping onto one of the chairs opposite the Brigadier.

Brigadier O'Reilly sat up straighter. "Well Potter, whilst you are here you will call your superiors 'sir', or by their rank, or there will be serious consequences. Is that understood?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"Yes, _sir_." Brigadier O'Reilly glared.

"There's no need to call me sir, Brigadier."

There was a pause. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that." Brigadier O'Reilly said, dangerously quiet.

Harry swallowed. "Y-yes sir. Sorry sir."

"Better." The Brigadier nodded once. "You see that athletics track?" He pointed out of the window and Harry nodded. "Next time you're insolent like that, I will have you running laps around it until you vomit, after you have been caned. Understand?"

Harry nodded. "Yes Sir."

"Good. It would also do for you to learn that you do not take a seat before you are told to do so." Brigadier O'Reilly looked pointedly at Harry, and he uncertainly stood up again.

Brigadier O'Reilly nodded. "I am not going to give you a lecture about what it is like here. If you have any questions, ask someone in your squad." He said. "I will warn you though, that of the three boys your age we have accepted before, two of them only lasted a year at this school. We may as well go and get your kit." He stood and walked towards the door, leaning on his cane. "Come with me."

Harry followed him in silence down corridors and staircases, trying to remember as much of the layout as he could.

"Down there are classrooms." Brigadier O'Reilly pointed down a corridor. "As the whole school only has around 100 pupils, we only need one wing for lessons, and we have a separate building for science labs, called the Duvalier Science Centre. Keep up. There are around 10 to 15 pupils in every class." They carried on walking, Brigadier O'Reilly pointing out the medical bay, pupil's dorms, and the dining hall. "Officer's quarters are upstairs. The boys often refer to them as the aerie. They are strictly out of bounds unless you are called up there and have a pass. Here is where you will get your kit." They had stopped outside of a storage room, and Harry could see various uniforms hanging on rails and in boxes. He followed Brigadier O'Reilly inside, and was greeted by an old man wearing fatigues. "Captain Adcock will help you find everything you need. Someone from your squad will be outside when you are done. He will show you the duty rotas, explain the rules and show you around the school." Brigadier O'Reilly said, before turning on his heel and leaving the way they had come.

"Right." Captain Adcock spread his arms. "Welcome to the Ark and all that. Let's get your worthless ass kitted up." He had an American accent, and Harry hurried after him as he strode further into the store room.

It took them half an hour to walk around the large room collecting all of the uniform Harry would need, and when they were done, Harry was lead through to another room and told to sit in the chair in the middle, before Captain Adcock cut his frizzy hair with a pair of clippers, leaving it all at a number two. When he tried to protest, Captain Adcock had backhanded him across the face, and Harry had been so surprised that a _teacher_ at a school had hit him, that the captain had managed to shave half his head before he noticed. Captain Adcock had just laughed at his stunned expression and said "You'll get worse than that here if you misbehave, kid. This ain't a regular school. Best get used to that. If someone tells you to do something, you do it. If they ask you a question, you answer. Otherwise..."

When they went back into the storage room, Harry was laden down with combat boots, three sets of grey trousers, white shirts and grey jumpers, a tie, green beret, sports kit, pyjamas, a towel and a toothbrush.

There was a boy waiting for him by the door, as Brigadier O'Reilly had said there would be. The boy ignored Harry, and stood to attention when he saw Captain Adcock.

"At ease." Captain Adcock said, and the boy stood with his hands behind his back. He was much taller than Harry, and handsome, his fringe falling over one eye whilst the sides were cut short. He was dressed in the same uniform Harry was holding, a stud in his right ear.

"I'm here to collect the new kid." The boy said.

"I know." Captain Adcock said, handing Harry a full pencil case. "The Brigadier said he would send somebody."

"Well, I'm here." The boy grinned.

"Well, you're dismissed." Captain Adcock said sounding bored, and the boy stood to attention again, then turned on his heel to go. "And Jefferson,"

The boy looked around. "Yes sir?"

"If it was anybody but you, you'd be getting laps for that."

"Yes sir. Sorry." The boy nodded and walked out of the storage room.

"Go with him." Captain Adcock said, giving Harry a small shove. Harry ran out after the boy.

The boy – Jefferson – was leaning against the wall next to the door. "Alright titch?" He said. "Tyler Jefferson. You're in my squad."

"Harry Potter." Harry replied. "And don't call me titch."

Tyler laughed. "You'll get used to it. You're tiny."

"Maybe 'cos I'm ten." Harry scowled as they started walking.

"I guess that makes sense."

They passed an older teacher with rather longer hair than Harry would expect from somebody in the army. The man halted mid-step, his eyes widening as he caught sight of Harry, before he shook his head and went through a door to his left.

"Who was that?" Harry asked.

"Major Professor Kelly." Tyler replied.

"Major Professor?" Harry repeated.

Tyler took a left turn. "Kelly, yeah. I just said that. He was a major in the army but also has a PhD." The older boy shrugged. "Decent bloke. Bit weird though, uses strange phrases and that."

"Right."

"What d'you do to get dumped in this trank-hole early anyway?" Tyler said, opening yet another heavy wooden door.

"I... climbed onto the roof. What about you?"

"I set fire to a library." Tyler said indifferently.

"Why?"

Tyler shrugged. "I don't like books."

Harry laughed, and then realised the boy wasn't joking.

"Brigadier O'Reilly told me to show you the bills and around campus and trank like that, but it's hooging outside, so we'll just go straight to the dorm." Tyler said, punching a code into a keypad and holding open the door.

Tyler lead Harry down a corridor with doors placed periodically along the walls, plastic signs above each frame. "You're be bunking with me. I'm on top." He said, opening a door with a large C above it, to reveal a dormitory with a bunk bed in three corners of the room. There were curtains made of bed sheets pinned to the ceiling around each bed to give each occupant some privacy. Next to each bed were two desks, leaving very little space in the room. "Welcome to C-dorm." Tyler said theatrically. "Two dorms of six share a bathroom, which is through there." He pointed to another door in the room. "There's 4 of us – 5 now - in here, and 4 next door. This is your bed."

Harry dumped his stuff on the made bed Tyler indicated. "And you're up here?" He tapped the top bunk.

"Why?"

Harry felt his face heat up. "No reason, just curious. You're the only person I've met here, so it's nice to know I'll be near a familiar face."

"You'll get to know everyone in here and next door really well. These two dorms form bravo squad." Tyler pulled off his boots and climbed the ladder to his bunk.

"Ok." Harry nodded. "Where is everybody else?"

Tyler glanced at his watch. "They'll be coming back in about five minutes."

"Right." Harry sat on his bed.

"Get changed." Tyler said. "You've got to be in uniform for EM. And hang up the rest of your uniform as well. We have inspections for that trank. You've got half the wardrobe."

"Trank?"

"We get punishment laps for swearing, so we say 'trank' instead of shit or whatever." Tyler explained.

Harry shook his head. "Right." He said slowly, and stood up to get changed. As well as the uniform, Harry had been given new underwear, so he pulled off his old ones from Dudley and put on the crisp white boxers and socks before putting on the rest of the uniform.

As he was doing up his shirt, the door opened and three muddy boys traipsed in, holding their trainers. They were talking and messing around but stopped when they saw Harry.

"Looks like we got the new kid." The tallest one said with a thick accent. He had dark skin and was almost a foot taller than Harry. He closed in on him, pushing the open sheet out of his way and towering over the smaller boy.

An Indian boy with a thin scar on his cheek stood next to him. "What's your name?"

"H-Harry." He said, taking a step back and bumping into the bed.

The Indian laughed. "Look at him Turk, he's shitting himself."

The black boy laughed too. "What d'you think we should do to him then?" He cracked his knuckles threateningly.

Suddenly Tyler jumped down from the top bunk and landed in between Harry and the two older boys. "How about nothing."

"Stay out of this Jefferson." The black boy said.

"Pick on someone your own size." Tyler said. He tutted. "And have a shower, you guys stink."

"So would you if you'd just been running the assault course with Smoke." The Indian snapped.

"Just shack off, Bhandi." Tyler glared at the two boys.

"We're going, keep your tampon in." Bhandi said, and he grabbed the back of Turk's shirt and pulled him away.

"Thanks." Harry said as he finished buttoning his shirt up.

"No problem titch." Tyler smirked.

"Fuck off."

Tyler laughed. "You've got a mouth on you."

"Who gives a shit?"

"Keep the curtains closed if you want to avoid those two." Tyler said, nodding in the direction of Bhandi and Turk's bed. "It's kind of an unspoken bill that if the curtains are closed you bugger off."

"Bill?" Harry asked.

"Rule." Tyler said.

Harry looked over at the sheets hiding the two boys from view. "Will they do anything?"

Tyler shook his head. "You'll be fine. We have to live together in this room all year, so they won't want to start anything. Some of the others might try something though because you're so small, and your skin. There's a load of racist pigs around."

"Am I likely to get a lot of shit?"

"Yeah, probably." Tyler said. Harry's face fell. "Don't sweat it, I'll look out for you."

Harry felt an unusual swooping sensation in his stomach. "Thanks."

Tyler shrugged. "Don't mention it. I reckon we're going to be good friends."

Harry had never had friends before, Dudley and his gang had seen to that. Maybe being sent to military school wouldn't be so bad after all. He smiled. "Yeah."


	3. Chapter 3

Harry was sat on Tyler's bed talking when a loud bell rang outside their dorm. He thought thought the older boy was clever and funny, and Tyler seemed to appreciate a captive audience as he lay sprawled on his bed telling stories of his life before Coleshill. He looked older than he was, at only 14, and had been at Coleshill for two years. Apparently, he had been expelled from Primary school and three fee-paying private schools, and had been arrested twice before his parents decided to send him to reform school. The other boys were all either scared of him or looked up to him, despite his age, sometimes a combination of both.

"What's the bell for?" Harry asked as the other boys in the room began getting up and putting their boots on.

"EM." Tyler said, jumping off the top bunk and landing gracefully on the carpet. "Dinner."

Harry climbed down the ladder and tugged on his boots, then put his beret on. When Tyler turned around from tying his own boots, he burst out laughing.

"What?" Harry said.

Tyler snorted. "Your beret looks completely retarded."

Harry ripped the offending article off. "How do you put it on then?"

"Give it here. It's not a hat." Tyler held out his hand and Harry passed over the beret. "You put the badge over your left eye..." Tyler moved closer to put the beret on Harry's head. "...and then flatten down the right side. Like this." The smoothed the cap down on Harry's head then stepped back. "See?"

"Right." Harry coughed. "Thanks."

In the corridor, Harry counted eighteen boys coming out of other rooms he supposed were more dorms. He caught up with Tyler, who was walking with two identical twins. "These guys are Owen and Oscar Yates." Tyler said. The twins had blond hair that was curly despite being cut so short. They were short but stocky, with blue-grey eyes framed by long eyelashes. "I've known them for two years and I still don't know which one is which. I just call them both Yates."

Harry laughed, and the twin on the left shook his head. "I'm Owen."

"Harry." Harry nodded.

"So you're the new kid." Owen said, looking Harry up and down. "Bit small, aren't you?"

"Oh piss _off_!" Harry groaned, and Tyler laughed. "What's the food like here?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject.

"Shit." Oscar replied. "You expect them to give us Michelin-star quality food in a place like this?" He looked at Harry like he was an idiot.

"Right."

They stopped in a covered courtyard, where the whole school was gathered, and seemed to be lining up in blocks. "Do we have to line up before dinner?" Harry asked.

Tyler nodded "Yeah, we have to stand in our squad before we can go in."

"It's fucking ridiculous some of the things they make us do." Oscar said, shaking his head.

"Like punishment laps for swearing?" A voice said behind them.

The four of them span to face an officer holding a stack of clipboards.

"Ten laps tomorrow, Private Yates." He said.

"Yes sir." Oscar said.

"Form up."

The four boys walked further into the courtyard, and Harry followed Tyler over to where the rest of C-dorm was standing with four other boys. The seven of them were talking, all standing with their hands behind their backs, looking bored.

Harry turned to Tyler. "Who are the others?"

"I _told_ you, our squad is made up of C and D dorms." Tyler explained. "Owen and Oscar are in D-dorm, as well as Nathaniel Jones, and Blake Smith." He pointed at gangly boy with a blue streak in his dirty blond hair, and a muscled, dark-skinned teenager as he said their names. "The whole squad is... supervised by Chen." Tyler gestured at the oldest boy standing in front of the others. He was at least seventeen, Asian, with a thin scar below his right eye and a snake tattooed on the side of his neck. "He's our corp. Corporal, like a... prefect." Tyler added at Harry's confused look.

"Right." Harry said as he stood in between Tyler and Blake at the front of the column, directly in front of Chen.

Harry started to ask another question, but was interrupted by a shout of "Company-shun!" by Brigadier O'Reilly, who was standing at the front of the courtyard. All of the boys around him snapped to attention with a stomp, and Harry hurried to do the same. Brigadier O'Reilly walked around the courtyard, handing the clipboards to the corporals standing in front of their squads.

Harry could hear the corporals who had received their clipboards saying things to their squads, but concentrated on Fu who had just been handed one.

When Brigadier O'Reilly walked away, Fu turned to the squad. "At ease." The boys in the squad moved so their hands were behind their backs and feet shoulder-width apart. "Alright. Bhandi."

Javid half-heartedly moved to attention then back to 'at ease'. "Present."

"Jefferson."

Tyler moved to attention as well. "Present."

"Jones."

The blond boy Nathaniel moved to attention. "Present."

The process was repeated, with Fu calling everybody's surname, and them moving to attention and replying with various levels of enthusiasm until "...and, Potter?"

"Uh, present." Harry quickly brought his feet together.

Chen looked up at him, then back down at the clipboard. "Cool. Just wait until O'Reilly calls us in."

Someone rapped the back of Harry's head. "Who are you?"

Harry and Tyler both turned to face Nathaniel. He was taller than both of them, towering over Harry.

"Harry." He replied, rubbing the back of his head.

Nathaniel laughed. "Oh come on, that didn't hurt."

"Leave him alone, Jones." Tyler said.

"Ooh, got yourself a boyfriend, new kid?" Nathaniel jeered.

"Shack off." Tyler glared, spinning around and pulling Harry with him.

"Oh, touchy." Nathaniel laughed. "Don't deny it though Jefferson. Everybody knows. This one probably is too."

Blake turned around to face Nathaniel. "Jones, stop it."

Whilst Nathaniel was obviously happy to make fun of the small new kid, he didn't fancy his chances against the burly teenager. "I'm just teasing."

Brigadier O'Reilly walked up to their squad at that moment. "What's going on Smith?"

Blake turned around. "Nothing, sir."

The Brigadier frowned. "I should hope so." He turned to Fu. "When you're ready go in Corporal."

"Yes sir." Fu replied, and Brigadier O'Reilly walked off. Fu looked at the younger boys. "I don't care what that was, but cut it out. Come on. Single file."

The nine of them followed the older boy through a door in a line, and into a canteen-style dining hall. Harry copied Tyler, and grabbed a moulded tray and plastic cutlery, then started queuing for food at the counter.

The queue moved fairly quickly, and soon Harry found himself at a counter, with a grumpy-looking old woman standing behind it. "Sausage or pasta." She grunted.

"Um, sausage, please."

The woman dropped a sausage onto his tray. "Potato?" Harry nodded, and she dolloped a spoonful of mashed potato next to the sausage. "Beans?"

"No, thanks."

The woman thrust his tray at him and turned to Owen, who was behind him in the queue. "Sausage or pasta."

Harry followed Tyler to a round table where Blake, Oscar and Fu were already sitting. Tyler pulled out a chair, and Harry took the one next to him.

The three boys were having a conversation about the teachers that Tyler quickly joined in. Harry just sat quietly eating his dinner as the rest of their squad sat around the table, half listening in to the conversation. They seemed to be calling the teachers 'stiffs', which he supposed was more Coleshill slang.

He muttered a quick "Thanks." When Tyler poured him a glass of water, but spent the rest of the meal looking around the dining hall at the boys eating, watched by men in uniforms who were walking around. Other than Harry, the youngest was thirteen, and they all had an assortment of scars, tattoos and body piercings.

Everybody stood up when a bell rang, and Brigadier O'Reilly spoke up. "For what you have just received, may the Lord make you grateful."

Everybody muttered an 'Amen', then Major Bradford came around the tables and dismissed each squad.

"Where are we going now?" Harry asked as he followed Tyler to a trolley in the middle of the room to dump his tray and cup.

"Back to the dorm." Tyler replied. "We have two hours of homework before Lock Up."

"Lock up?" Harry laughed, raising his eyebrows.

"Curfew." Tyler explained with a grin. "We have to be in our dorms."

"Do you know what I have to do?" Harry asked.

"Homework." Oscar said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, I don't have any, do I?"

"I'll take you to the library." Tyler shrugged.

"You? In a library?" Owen grinned.

"Shack off." Tyler shoved Owen as the other boys laughed.

"See you later Tyler." Oscar said as he and his twin went into D-dorm.

"Yeah, alright." Tyler nodded, and Harry waved. They went into C-dorm and headed for two desks next to their bunk bed.

Tyler began puling books and folders off the shelf beside him.

Harry walked over to his own desk opposite him, which had nothing on it except his clear pencil case. He sat down and unzipped it for something to do, as the other boys started opening their books and working. He had two pencils, a rubber, a protractor and a ruler, as well as an A4 pad of lined paper with 'BANCO PAPER' written on the front.

Harry took out a pencil, and pulled the pad of paper towards him, and started to sketch. He thought about Nigel, a boy he had befriended last summer when he was staying with relatives in Little Whinging, and tried to draw him from memory, but he couldn't seem to get the features quite right: He was drawing the nose too narrow, the lips too full, the hairstyle all wrong. He frowned, and tipped his head to the side. Harry realised he wasn't drawing Nigel, but Tyler. He smiled slightly, and continued to draw the other boy, looking up every now and then as he worked.

He held the finished drawing up slightly, happy with the result.

"Zat's really good." A quiet voice said from behind his shoulder. Harry jumped and span in his chair, to face the blond boy with a bag slung over his shoulder. He shoved the drawing into his desk drawer and glared at the boy.

"How long have you been standing there?" He demanded.

Javid shushed him from across the room.

The blond boy chuckled softly. "Not long." He had a German accent. "I just came over to see if you vanted to go to the library. I know Tyler said he'd take you but I'm going over anyvay."

Tyler looked up from the paper he was writing on. "I've got this massive history essay for Norwood. Go with him."

"I... ok, sure." Harry said as he stood up.

Harry followed the blond boy out of C-dorm and down the corridor in silence. When the reached the door at the end of the corridor, it was opened by an officer from the other side.

"Major Gibson." The blond boy said, standing to attention.

"Where are you two going?" The major demanded.

"Library, sir."

Major Gibson raised his eyebrows. "Both of you?" He was looking at Harry.

"Yes." Harry nodded. "Sir."

"Potter's new, Sir." The blond said. "I'm showing him the vay as we both need to go."

Major Gibson regarded them for a moment. "Very well, but hurry. You should be in Banco at the moment Müller."

"Yes sir."

Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of the way Major Gibson looked at him as they passed.

He could hear the boy next to him muttering about the officer engaging in sexual activities with his own mother, and covered his mouth to hide his smile as they walked away.

"I am Rex by the vay." The blond boy said once they were down a staircase and away from the dorms. "Ve haven't been properly introduced."

"Harry."

"So you like drawing?" Rex asked conversationally, as he pushed open a door and held it for Harry.

"What?"

"Your picture of Tyler. It vas really good."

"Oh. Thanks."

"I'm serious, it vas amazing. Callahan's going to love you. Down here." Rex pointed down a corridor to their right and Harry turned into it.

"Callahan?"

"Mr. Callahan. Ze art teacher." Rex explained.

"Oh. He's not an officer then?"

Rex shook his head. "No. Not all of ze staff are officers."

Harry nodded and followed Rex down a deserted corridor.

"Vhere is your beret?" Rex asked.

"What? I didn't think I'd need it."

"You better hope nobody sees you zen." Rex grinned. "Come on." He pushed open a door, and ran out into the torrential rain. Harry sprinted out after him, pulling the door closed behind them. He followed Rex down a long gravel path to a banana-shaped glass building 200 metres away from the main school, the wind pulling at his shirt.

They burst through a door, and stood dripping on the wooden floor of a huge library, next to a young receptionist sat behind a large white desk. There were four computers at a station behind him, and a line of printers and photocopiers against one wall. Rex pulled off his beret as he walked down a set of steps and led Harry towards the rows of curved shelves, punctuated with desks and tables where a few older pupils were working silently.

"I haff to return these first." Rex whispered, lifting the strap of his bag. "Find a book, and I vill meet you by the front desk in ten minutes."

Harry nodded, and turned down an aisle to look at the books. He ran his fingers along the spines of the books as he walked, occasionally pulling one out to look at the cover or read the blurb.

Harry had always loved the library. It had been his safe haven from Dudley and his gang, at least before he was banned, as his cousin would never voluntarily go within four feet of a book.

When he was back at the front desk, Harry handed the book he had picked up to the librarian, who scanned the barcode on the inside cover and asked for his name.

"Harry." He replied. "Potter."

The librarian pulled a folder off a shelf next to him and began flicking through pages of barcodes. "I don't suppose you know your number?" he seemed resigned to the task of flicking through the folder until he found Harry's name.

Harry looked at him blankly. "Number?"

"Yes. The number you were given on your first day here." The librarian sighed.

"Oh. I'm new." Harry said. "Today is my first day."

"Well, I've got it here, don't worry." The librarian said, and scanned a barcode in the folder. "It's 960, if you're interested." He said as he handed Harry the book. "You need to return that in two weeks."

"Thank you." Harry said. The librarian looked surprised, but Harry supposed that the majority of the boys weren't at Coleshill because of their impeccable manners.

He turned, and saw Rex coming up the steps towards him, a textbook in his hand. Harry waited as he had it checked out, then walked with him to the glass door.

"Put zat in here." Rex said, shoving his textbook into his bag. "It vill keep it dry."

Harry handed him his books. "Thanks."

"Come on." Rex said as he put his beret on.

Harry followed him out of the glass door, saying a quick goodbye to the librarian over his shoulder before darting out into the rain and sprinting back the way they had come.

Rex put in the code to unlock the door, and once they were inside Harry wiped his wet glasses on the inside of his jumper.

"What's the code for the doors?" Harry asked.

"Nobody has told you? Sorry, I vas thinking you knew." Rex said. "It's C-Y-1-6-2-7."

As they walked back to the dorms, Rex blabbered on about Germany and motorbikes and Coleshill and food, and Harry had decided that whilst Rex seemed like a nice guy, he liked the sound of his voice too much.

Major Gibson looked pointedly at the clock as they passed him, and the two boys hurried into C-Dorm.

Their three dorm-mates were all at their desks working, and Rex handed Harry his book before sitting at his own desk and opening his textbook.

Harry sat down opposite Tyler, and smiled when the older boy looked up. Tyler nodded back, then sighed when he looked back down at the page of writing in front of him. Harry grinned and opened his book. He started to read, ignoring the rain lashing at the window.

In the evening, Harry climbed into bed, stretching out as much as he could. This was _way_ better than the cramped cupboard under the stairs. He grinned, and Tyler looked at him oddly.

"What's got you in such a good mood?"

Harry shrugged, still grinning. "Nothing in particular."

"Right."

Harry jumped as thunder boomed outside, the grin suddenly gone from his face. He did _not_ like storms.

"You alright?" Tyler asked as he pulled off his hoodie.

"What? Oh, yeah. Fine. I'm fine." Harry took his glasses off and placed them on the floor next to his bed.

Tyler didn't look convinced, but he climbed the ladder, and Harry heard the springs creak as he moved around on the top bunk.

Five minutes later, the lights clicked off, and the room was plunged into darkness, occasionally lit up by a flash of lightning outside the window. Harry curled into a ball under the covers and pulled his pillow over his head to try and drown out the thunder. That only made it darker, and a quiet whimper escaped him. He peered out into the darkness, and jumped when a flash of lightning lit up the room. He sat up in the middle of the bed, pulling the duvet around himself, and leant against the wall. He could feel himself trembling, and bit down on his pillow to stop himself crying out when the thunder boomed. Harry almost screamed when the next lightning flash showed the blurry silhouette of somebody standing in front of him, and he started hyperventilating when he could no longer see them. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and jerked away, but there was another hand on that side, holding him. The mattress dipped as somebody sat down next to him, and then he was being held by strong arms wrapped around him.

Somebody was whispering in his ear, and it took him a moment to register the words. "Shh, shh. It's okay, just breathe. You're alright. Shh." He jumped at the next crash of thunder, but the arms he now realised were Tyler's held him tight. "Shh. You need to breathe. You're ok. Shh. There you go." Harry felt himself calming down, and he leaned into Tyler's embrace.

Tyler tugged the duvet up around them, and lay down, still holding Harry.

"That's it. You're okay." He repeated. "Breathe."

"What are you-" Harry whispered.

"I could hear you from the top bunk." Tyler muttered. "Why are you so scared?"

"I'm not scared." Harry snapped, his breathing steadily slowing to a more normal rate.

"Ok, then why are you having a trank panic attack?" Tyler asked.

Harry scowled. "No offense, but I don't know you, and I'm hardly about to tell you my fucking life story."

Tyler was quiet for a few minutes, seeming to consider that. "My favourite colour is green." He said softly. "I have two dogs at home, Max and Tolly, and I can't wait to see them at Christmas. I don't have any siblings, but I've got 3 cousins on my mum's side."

"Why do I care?" Harry whispered furiously, and Javid shushed him from across the room.

"I'm getting to know you." Tyler shrugged. "I can't stand carrots. I'm left-handed." Harry smiled despite himself. "I love football, and get tickets to every Tottenham game I can. I hate flying. I don't get on with my dad."

"At least you fucking have a dad." Harry muttered.

Tyler stilled. "I'm sorry." He murmured.

Harry sighed "I was 1. I don't even remember them."

"Them?"

"Yeah. My parents both died in a car crash. That's how I got my scar."

"Oh. Sorry."

Harry sighed again. "It's fine. I'm used to it."

Tyler was quiet for a moment. "I play the drums. I can't sing to save my life."

Harry grinned. "Neither."

"My birthday is the 29th of April."

"31st of July." Harry whispered. Then he added reluctantly "My favourite colour is blue." He could almost feel Tyler's triumphant grin in the dark. "I like carrots, but I don't like sweet potato. I've never seen a proper football match."

"Do you have any siblings?" Tyler whispered.

"No. I live with my cousin though."

"That's cool."

"No, it's not." Harry spat. "They're the only family I've got left, and they all hate me."

"Oh." Tyler obviously didn't know what to say to that.

"I don't need your fucking pity." Harry tried to sound tough and angry, but cradled in Tyler's arms, with thunder crashing outside the window, his voice cracked on the last word. Tyler squeezed him gently, but didn't say anything as Harry shook with supressed sobs. "They hate me. They're my family, and they hate me." He whispered. He peered through the dark at Tyler's face. "They lock me in the cupboard under the stairs when I deserve it, sometimes for days at a time."

"That... that's not okay, Harry."

Tyler pulled him closer, and sat stroking his short hair as he quietly told him about his life with the Dursleys. Harry talked for what felt like hours and hours, and when he was finished, the storm had blown itself out, rain still pelting the window.

He was completely exhausted, and fell asleep still cradled in Tyler's arms.


	4. Chapter 4

A loud bell woke Harry up with a start the next morning. He heard a snort behind him, and saw Tyler was still lying next to him on the bottom bunk.

"You get used to it." Tyler said. He sat up and pushed Harry off the bed, before standing up and stretching. Harry glared up at him from the floor, and Tyler laughed.

Harry could hear the other boys in the dorm moving around getting dressed, and he stood up as Tyler dumped Harry's new sports kit on his bed.

"Thanks." Harry said, then yawned. "What time is it?"

"Almost six thirty." Tyler replied as he started to get dressed.

"Six thirty?" Harry gasped. He ran a hand through his hair, and scowled when he remembered it had been cut short.

"Yup."

Harry sighed, and began getting changed as well. "Why do we have to be up so bloody early?" He complained.

"To go for a lovely, refreshing run before breakfast." Tyler laughed.

"You weren't fucking joking?" Harry asked incredulously, as boys jogged past him to start their run around the school grounds. Owen and Oscar were standing next to them and laughed.

Tyler shook his head. "Nope. Come on, the sooner you finish this the sooner we can get to breakfast."

"How far is it?" Harry asked as he started running after the other boys.

"5K." Owen said.

Harry stopped. "I can't run that!"

"You're gonna have to." Tyler replied, giving Harry a small push to get him running again.

"How long does it usually take you?"

"About twenty minutes." Owen replied.

"Don't waste your breath talking." Tyler advised. "Just run."

"Fine." Harry huffed, and jogged after the crowd of boys.

Forty minutes later, Harry followed Owen, Oscar and Tyler into the dining hall, and gratefully accepted a tray of cold porridge. The dining hall was almost empty, and the four boys sat at a round table by the door.

"What time do lessons start?" Harry asked, pulling at the tie around his neck.

"Ten minutes." Oscar replied, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"That early?"

Owen nodded. "Usually we have a bit longer, but we were slower on the run today."

"Sorry." Harry muttered.

"We've got time." Tyler said. "Besides, I've only got Dubois first thing."

"You lucky sod." Oscar shook his head. "I've got Atkinson."

Tyler laughed. "You should go now then." He grinned.

"How do I know what lessons to go to?" Harry frowned.

"Just come to all my tips, and we'll see if you get told to switch." Tyler shrugged. "Chances are you won't though."

"But you're four years older than me."

Owen shook his head. "Classes are based on ability, not age." He explained. "Every lesson has a mix of people from 12 to 18, depending on how thick they are."

Harry nodded as he crammed more egg into his mouth.

The four of them hurriedly finished their breakfasts, before rushing out of the dining hall to grab their books and pencil cases from their dorms.

Owen and Oscar both had chemistry, so they split off from Harry and Tyler to go over to the science labs in a separate building. Harry followed Tyler down the corridor Brigadier O'Reilly had shown him yesterday. There were boys lining up against the walls between the doors, holding an assortment of textbooks, folders and exercise books. Teachers were just starting to let their students into the classrooms, and Harry and Tyler joined the line of boys going into a classroom with a French flag pinned to the door. As Tyler had said, the class was a mix of all ages, though most of them were around 16, but Harry only recognised Blake.

Their teacher was a short balding man, with a thin moustache, curled at the ends. Everybody filed in, then stood behind their chairs, and Harry stood next to Tyler at a desk right in the middle of the classroom. He looked around at the French displays on the walls, and jumped slightly when the teacher spoke. "Bonjour mes enfants."

"Bonjour monsieur Dubois." The class replied, with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Ça va?" The teacher, Harry supposed his name was Monsieur Dubois, asked.

"Ça va bien merci, et vous?" Came the reply.

"Très bien, merci. Assis-toi." The students sat down, and when they were settled Monsieur Dubois began talking in fast-paced French that Harry flew over Harry's head. When he stopped talking, the boys started opening their books and writing quietly, and Monsieur Dubois came over to Harry's desk.

"Comment t'appelle tu?" He asked, handing him a yellow exercise book.

"Er, je m'appelle Harry, monsieur, Harry Potter." Harry replied.

"Bonjour, Potter. Je m'appelle monsieur Dubois. Voici la deuxième classe a Coleshill, donc nous verrons si tu dois être déplacé le bas, d'accord?"

Harry stared blankly at the man. "Er, oui, monsieur."

"Parfait. Ecrit dans son cahier, ton nom, ton dortoir, 'française', et mon nom, sil te plait."

Harry hurried to obey.

"At the moment, we are doing some work on the subject of the environment." The Frenchman continued in English. "Have you done anything on this at your previous school?"

Harry shook his head.

"Fine. The rest of the class are finishing a piece of work they started last lesson, so can you please try your best to write 200 words about the environment and climate change."

"Ok." Harry nodded.

M. Dubois frowned, but turned on his heel and made his way through the tables to a boy with his hand up.

Harry opened his book to the first page, and glanced at Tyler, who was studying a long list of vocab.

"We've got a test next tip." He explained. "Figured I may as well study now rather than in Banco."

"You don't strike me as the studying type." Harry grinned.

Tyler shrugged. "Dubois is chill when it comes to being late, but if you flunk a test or don't do your banco he's a complete biff about it."

"How d'you mean?"

"Like, he gives you a lap for every percent under 80 you get."

"Shit."

Tyler nodded. "Yup. Mental." Both boys bent over their work and pretended to write as the teacher walked past them to help another student.

"So how long are the lessons?" Harry asked, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"55 minutes, then we have 5 to grab our stuff for our next tip and get to that class." Tyler explained. "Each tip starts at half past."

"Tips are lessons, right?" Harry enquired.

Tyler nodded.

Harry nodded. "I guess that's not too bad."

"It's not terrible." Tyler shrugged.

The two boys worked quietly, not speaking much, until a loud bell rang outside, signalling the end of the lesson.

"Okay, finish the sentence you are on." M. Dubois said. "Finish that for banco, please. As you leave, tell me about something you did on your holidays." Harry packed up his things, and put his beret back on, then joined the queue of boys at the door. Each boy said a short sentence to M. Dubois before they left.

When they were outside, they merged with the other boys coming out of the classrooms heading back towards the dorms.

"What have we got next?" Harry asked as he walked beside Tyler.

Tyler pulled a face. "Double English with Colonel Hatcher."

"Take it you're not a fan." Harry grinned.

Tyler shrugged. "Some stiffs are alright, some are complete biffs, and then there's Hatcher. And it's a double tip, so we've got her for two hours straight."

"Sounds like fun."

"Yeah, sure." Tyler shook his head as they entered C-dorm.

Harry left his French book on his desk, and waited for the older boy to grab a large purple folder and an exercise book, before following him back out of the dorm. Boys were just beginning to make their way to their next lesson, and they joined the crowd heading to the classrooms.

The solid door opened as they reached it, revealing a tall, thin woman with her blonde hair pulled into a tight bun standing in the doorway, holding a decorative cane. She stepped backwards, and the boys started filing into the classroom in silence.

They stood behind their chairs as the rest of the class came in, before Hatcher shut the door and came to stand in front of them. "Sit."

Harry dropped into his seat next to Tyler and looked up at the teacher.

"Get out your anthologies. We will be analysing a new poem this lesson, and you will be writing an essay on it for Banco."

The boys around Harry opened their folders and started looking through them for their anthologies, and Harry put his hand up.

"Yes?"

"I'm new. Do you have an anthology I can have?" Harry asked.

Colonel Hatcher looked at him for a moment, and Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Potter, right?" Harry nodded. "Not at the moment no. You'll just have to share with Jefferson."

"Okay."

"Potter you may be new, but I expect you to follow bills. That means beret off, and you are to call me ma'am." Hatcher snapped. Harry heard a boy behind him snicker softly.

"Sorry ma'am." Harry said, pulling his beret off.

"I will have a copy of the anthology sent to your Corporal before Banco today. You will have to copy up the notes we make today for Banco as well. What dorm are you in?"

"C-dorm. Ma'am." Harry replied.

"I will give Corporal Fu a copy for you." Colonel Hatcher nodded. "The rest of you, please turn to page 18."

They spent the next 2 hours studying and evaluating a poem in more detail than Harry had ever done before.

The discipline in the classroom was stricter than he had ever experienced. The class worked in silence as Colonel Hatcher lectured at them, and when she asked a question, they had to stand to attention and answer. It was a new experience for Harry, being in a classroom where their teacher constantly sneered at them, and she would bring her cane down hard on a table in front of someone if she thought they weren't paying attention.

Harry made notes on the pad of lined paper he had with him, and at the end of the lesson, they all wrote down the title to an essay they had to write for homework, due the next lesson on Wednesday.

"My brain has turned to sludge." Harry said once they were out of the classroom.

Tyler laughed. "We've got chemistry with Bradford next, he's alright. It's a double, so we'll do a practical."

"Do we not get a break, like, ever?" Harry asked.

Tyler shook his head. "Tips from 0630 'til 1330 hours, when we have lunch. Then there's sport all afternoon."

"What's with the 'eleven hundred hours' rubbish everyone uses?" Harry asked.

"It's just how everyone talks. Get used to it."

Harry tried not to be offended by the curt tone. "What kind of sport do we do?"

"This term we either do rugby, combat or fitness." Tyler explained as they climbed a staircase.

"We get to choose?"

Tyler laughed. "No. It's up to Smoke and Little. They're the sports guys."

"Do I want to know what fitness involves?" Harry grinned.

The other boys were leaving C-dorm as they entered, and Tyler told Harry to bring his things for both chemistry and geography so that they wouldn't need to come back to the dorm from the science labs.

Harry was beginning to get hungry, and grinned gleefully when Tyler dug around in his desk drawer and threw a cereal bar at him.

"Thanks." He grinned, unwrapping it devouring it in three huge bites.

"No problem." Tyler replied, eating his own. He held his hand out for Harry's wrapper, then screwed them up in a piece of paper before dropping it in the bin, disguising them surprisingly effectively. "It's 'contraband'." Tyler explained, pulling a face to show what he thought of that. "If a stiff found out I had it I'd get divved, so if you tell anybody I will kick your canky face in. Let's go."

Harry hurried after him, and followed him down a different route from their dorm, taking them outside into the rain and along a tarmacked path to a separate brick building. Tyler unlocked the door with a code, and then led Harry through the building to the chemistry block.

They joined the end of the line as Major Bradford held the door open for the class to file in. The boys stood behind their chairs at the front of the classroom until Major Bradford told them to sit down, and Harry listened as he explained the practical they were going to be doing that lesson.

When he stood up with the rest of the class to go to the back of the room to get safety goggles and do the experiment, the teacher held out a hand and told him to sit back down. "You don't get to do practicals in my classroom until you've passed a theory test. I want you to copy out the notes we have made over the past few lessons." He said, handing Harry a blue exercise book. "Use Jefferson's."

Harry pulled his pencil out of his pencil case and nodded. Major Bradford raised an eyebrow. "Yes sir." Harry said.

Major Bradford hummed, but went to the back of the classroom to supervise the practical. Harry took his beret off and pulled Tyler's exercise book towards him, and began copying down notes and diagrams. He still hadn't finished when the class began moving back to their seats at the front of the classroom, but he gave Tyler his exercise book back, and left space for the pages he hadn't copied out yet, before drawing out the results table to the experiment the other boys had just done, and copying down Tyler's numbers.

"When you have finished your table, complete this sheet." Major Bradford said, sending a pile of worksheets down each row of tables. Harry glanced at the questions then went back to writing out the results of the experiment he hadn't done.

The classroom was quiet except for the scratching of pencils on paper as the boys worked.

The bell ringing outside the classroom made Harry jump, and he flushed when Tyler snorted.

"Alright, pack up your things." Major Bradford said. Chairs scraped as everybody stood up and stood to attention by their desks. "Dismissed. Potter?"

Harry looked up. "Yes?" Tyler kicked him. "Sir?"

Major Bradford frowned but didn't comment. "I want you to copy out the rest of those notes for Banco. I will be disappointed if they are not finished by the end of the week."

"Yes sir."

"Feel free to come to me if you need any extra help."

"I will sir."

Major Bradford nodded. "You may go."

Harry followed Tyler out of the classroom.

"What's next?"

"Geography." Tyler replied, pushing him slightly to get him to turn a corner.

"But then it's lunch?" Harry asked.

Tyler laughed. "Yes. Then it's lunch."

"Brilliant." Harry grinned. "Do you know what it is?"

"Pizza."

"Is that good?"

Tyler shrugged. "Pizza is pizza, wherever you get it."

"So is it good?" Harry repeated.

"Is it- is pizza good?"

"Well, I-I've never-" Harry stammered.

"You've never had pizza?" Tyler cried.

"Who's never had pizza?" Owen said, catching up with them as they walked up another set of stairs.

"Harry!" Tyler exclaimed, turning to them incredulously.

"What?" Owen looked down at Harry. "You've never had pizza?" He asked.

Harry shook his head as Oscar caught up with them too.

"Yates, Harry's never had pizza!" Tyler exclaimed.

"Did you live in a cupboard or something?" Oscar laughed, and Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, pizza here isn't the best introduction, but you're having some today." Tyler said.

They had stopped walking in a corridor with maps along the walls. A row of boys was waiting outside of one of the classrooms, leaning against the wall, and the three boys joined the back of line.

5 minutes later, Major Gibson came down the corridor and unlocked the door. "Hurry up boys." He said, holding the door open so the class had to squeeze through the doorway.

Harry chose a square table for the four of them to sit at, and they stood behind their chairs as the rest of the class filed in and Major Gibson stood behind his desk. "Sit down." Owen and Conner pulled their berets off at the same time as they sat down, and Harry grinned. "Is something funny, Mr. Potter?" Major Gibson demanded.

"What? No. No sir. Sorry." Harry flushed, and hastily sat down.

Major Gibson took his beret off and placed it on his desk, then turned to face the class. "You will be completing your A3 sheet on volcanoes. They need to be finished at the end of the lesson, as you have another sheet for Banco, and we're moving on to something else next lesson. You're behind the other classes in how much you've done so far this term, so we need to catch up." Tyler rolled his eyes. "Get on with it."

"Sir?" Harry asked as the rest of the class took out A3 sheets and textbooks and started their work.

"Yes, Potter?" Major Gibson said, coming over to their desk.

Harry coughed. "Please may I have the sheet, sir."

"Right, yes." Major Gibson took one off a pile on his desk and handed it to him, as well as a red ring binder to put it in.

The rest of the lesson passed quickly as they filled out information about volcanoes. Harry didn't fully understand some of the terminology the book used, but Owen managed to explain most of it.

When the bell rang, signalling the end of the lesson, most of the boys ignored it and continued writing. A few started packing up their work, but Major Gibson shouted from across the room. "Did I dismiss you? Get your things back out! The lesson ends when I say it does, not when the bell rings."

"Brilliant." Oscar muttered.

The boys who had been packing away reluctantly took their sheets back out of their folders and began writing again, and Major Gibson sat behind his desk in front of them all.

10 minutes later, he placed a pile of A4 sheets on each table. "You can start packing up now. Those sheets I've just given you are for your Banco. There are 2 different ones there, you need 1 of each. I'm giving you until Thursday, so there are no excuses for not doing it." Harry nodded in thanks when Oscar passed him his pages. He glanced at them before clipping them into his ring binder. "Stand behind your chairs when you are ready to go."

Harry waited impatiently as the rest of the class cleared their things, and practically raced to the door the moment Major Gibson dismissed them.

"Pizza time." Tyler grinned once they were outside the classroom. "Come on, if we hurry we won't be too late."

It was still raining, and the four boys ran through the wind from the science block back to the main building, then made their way to C-Dorm to drop off their books. They hurried through the school to the dining hall.

There was no queue in the cafeteria, and they grabbed trays and plastic cutlery and went straight up to the counter.

"Pizza or soup?" The woman behind the counter said, sounding bored.

"Pizza please Gladys." Tyler replied, flashing her a smile.

The dinner lady – Gladys, Harry presumed – smiled back, and placed a square of pizza on Tyler's tray. "Chips?"

"Yes please."

Gladys spooned a large helping of chips onto the tray, then added a few more with a wink. Tyler just grinned and took his tray back.

"Pizza or soup." Gladys asked Harry.

"Pizza, please."

Harry took his tray and walked with Tyler to an empty table. Owen and Oscar sat down opposite them as Tyler poured out water for them all.

"So, are you ready Titch?" Oscar said.

"Ready for what? And don't call me titch."

Owen and Oscar spoke together. "Pizza!"

Harry laughed. "Oh right, yeah."

"Go on then." Tyler grinned.

With the three of them watching him, Harry picked up his square of pizza, and took a large bite. A huge smile spread across his face. "This stuff is awesome!" Harry took another large bite as the older boys laughed at him.

He finished the whole slice before any of them were even half-way through their own, and sat quietly eating his chips as they talked.

Tyler laughed when he saw his empty tray. "So you like it?"

Harry beamed at him. "It's amazing!"

Tyler grinned, and cut his own pizza in half, then transferred one of the pieces to Harry's tray. "Have that."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

"Yeah Krana, since when have you been one to give up food?" Owen was staring at Tyler as if he had grown another head.

Tyler just shrugged, and went back to his chips. "The stuff here isn't great anyway. You should come to my house sometime titch; our chef cooks the best pizza."

"Oh yes, your private chef." Oscar stuck his nose in the air and acted pompous.

Tyler punched him. "Shack off." He glanced out the window and sighed. "I don't fancy the combat in this."

Oscar laughed. "What, don't want to get your pretty hair muddy?" Tyler punched him again.

"We should probably get going." Owen said, and looking around, Harry saw that the dining hall was practically empty. He drank the rest of his water in one, and stood up as the others dumped their trays on the trolley.

Javid and Turk were getting changed noisily when they entered C-Dorm, and Rex was sitting at his desk, bent over some work. Tyler shut the sheets around their bed when they were inside.

Harry gratefully tore off his tie and undid the top button of his shirt as Tyler pulled his own uniform off and stood in his pants as he looked for his sports kit. Harry admired his toned chest, and flushed when Tyler looked over at him. The older boy raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, and pulled the blue t-shirt on. Flustered, Harry took his own uniform off and changed into his damp sports kit, studiously avoiding Tyler's gaze.

A few minutes later, Harry heard Chen's voice from outside the dorm. "Hurry up!"

Tyler rolled his eyes as he pulled on his trainers. "Come on then, we mustn't keep corporal Fu Chen waiting."

Harry laughed, and held the sheet back for Tyler.

The whole squad was waiting outside of the dorms, and when Blake emerged from D-Dorm, they made their way through the school and out into the rain. The wind had died down, but Harry was soon soaked to the skin, his hair plastered to his head asFu lead them at a fast jog across the many fields towards the sports hall. "I'd give you a warning about Smoke and Little," Tyler said as they ran. "But I'm not sure I can even put it into words. They're sadistic bastards, alright? Do what they tell you." Harry nodded.

2 large men were waiting for them next to the modern sports hall, both holding an umbrella and a steaming Thermos flask. They were both over 6 feet tall, black, and hugely muscled, with thighs the size of Harry's waist.

The squad stopped in front of them and stood to attention, and Harry hurried to copy them.

"You're late. Drop and give me 10!" The man on the left said, with a sadistic smile.

The ten boys dropped to the ground and started doing press-ups, then got back up and stood to attention once more.

"What the fuck was that, kid?" The taller of the two men screamed in Harry's face. "Those were pathetic! Give me 10 more!" He pushed Harry to the ground, and he fell face first into the mud. Harry spat out a mouthful of grass, then pushed himself up and struggled to do more press-ups. "Faster!" The imposing man screamed. "My mother has more upper-body strength than you!"

Harry's hands slipped on the grass, and he fell onto his chest. Harry could vaguely hear the other man talking to the rest of the squad. A size-12 boot pressed on his head, holding it in the freezing mud. "You're pathetic! Get up." Harry stood up and faced the man again as the rest of the squad disappeared into the sports Hall. "Too slow." Harry was pushed back into the mud. "Get up, faster this time."

Gritting his teeth, Harry scrambled to his feet.

"Stand up straight you pathetic little twerp." The man snarled.

Harry straightened his back and held his arms by his sides.

"My name is Mr. Little, and for the next 6 hours, you belong to me."

"6 hours?" Harry gasped.

"Did I give you permissions to speak?" Mr. Little roared.

"No."

"Then don't speak!" Mr Little slammed his boot into the soft flesh between Harry's hip bone and rib cage, and he slammed into the ground again and groaned. "Get up." Mr. Little spat. "As I was saying, for the next 14 days, you will be spending your sports sessions with me, for 1-on-1 training, to get you up to peak fitness." Mr Little smiled nastily. "I do not care if you are cold, tired, hungry, sick, you will do what I say, when I say it. Understood?"

"Yes." Harry nodded.

"Sir!"

"Yes sir."

Mr. Little was true to his word. For the next 6 hours he made Harry do press-ups and sit-ups, squat, jump, sprint, stretch and crawl in the fading light, all the while screaming abuse at him. By the end of it Harry was exhausted, thirsty, and covered in mud and sweat.

He was shivering by the time he reached the main building, and the warm interior was a welcome relief. The corridors were silent, and glancing at a clock on the wall Harry realised he had missed dinner. His stomach growled at the thought.

Sighing, Harry made his way through the empty halls back to his dorm. The others were all at their desks working when he came in, and Turk sniggered at his muddy red face.

"You chodra, what the hell?" Javid exclaimed as Harry walked towards his bed.

"What?"

"Take your canky shoes off, you're getting mud everywhere!"

Harry looked behind him and saw he had left a faint trail of mud from the door. "Sorry." He bent and pulled his boots off. "I didn't realise."

"Are you actually retarded?" Turk scoffed.

"Oakley, leave it." Tyler warned.

"If we get divved because he's been autistic then I am going to beat the trank out of him." Bhandi glared.

"Sharon will clear it up tomorrow." Tyler said. "Shut it."

"Kubowa? Who's Sharon?"

Tyler rolled his eyes. "The cleaner."

"Look, I said I'm sorry." Harry said.

"Whatever, you're the one that'll have to clean main building if you get caught." Javid tutted and turned back to his work, and Harry slipped between the sheets surrounding his bed. He stripped off his muddy sports kit and hung it on the rail on the wardrobe, before wrapping himself in his towel and heading for the shower.

He leant against the wall slightly as he warmed up, enjoying the feeling of the hot water running down his body, and watched the mud run down the drain.

He left the bathroom after a long shower, and got changed into his pyjamas, then sat at his desk and pulled his English essay towards him, and began his Banco.

When the other boys in C-Dorm began moving around at 9 o clock, Harry was still working on his French Banco, so he stayed at his desk and carried on writing as they changed into pyjamas or headed for the showers. 10 minutes later Harry accepted defeat when he couldn't concentrate with Javid and Turk's noise, and closed his book and stood up, just as Tyler came in from the shower.

"Hey."

Harry nodded and held back the sheet for Tyler.

"So you made it back from sport then."

Harry grinned. "Just about."

Tyler hung his towel on the bed. "What did you have to do?"

Harry coughed. "I... um... he made me do a load of fitness."

"Right." Tyler nodded, then cracked his back. "Bet that was fun." He grinned.

"Yeah." Harry sat on his bed. "I mean no. It wasn't." He lay down.

Tyler laughed as he reached up to pull his pyjamas off the top bunk, and Harry closed his eyes.

"You alright?"

Harry opened his eyes again to see Tyler peering at him as he pulled on his pyjama bottoms. He nodded. "We playing cards again?"

"If you want. I was just going to stay here and listen to music."

Harry shook his head. "I'm fine staying here."

"Budge up then." Tyler grabbed the iPod from his bed and lay on the bottom bunk next to Harry, then handed him an earphone.

"Thanks."

They stayed lying next to each other listening to Tyler's music until the door opened and Major Gibson's voice came into the room. "Light's out!" 10 seconds later the light switch clicked, and the room was plunged into darkness.

Harry felt his breath hitch, but Tyler's arm wrapped around him and held him tight. "Just listen to the music." He whispered.

"I'm not scared of the dark." Harry sneered. Tyler didn't say anything. "Ok, maybe I'm a _little_ scared, but you don't need to stay here."

"Titch, it's fine. I want to. Apart from anything it's warmer sharing a bed."

Harry laughed softly then elbowed Tyler. "Don't call me titch."

Tyler just chuckled and squeezed him gently. Harry didn't usually like small spaces, but cradled in Tyler's strong grasp he felt safe and comfortable, and he fell asleep within minutes.

**A/N: I know it kind of breaks up the flow of the story, but I hate it when authors have the translation of any foreign languages as a note at the end of the story, especially if you have to keep flicking between the translation and the story. Any other foreign languages will be translated in this way throughout the fic, or simply written in bold so you can tell it's not in English, unless it's obvious what's being said (bonjour/ja etc.), or if it's intentionally in a language people don't understand.**


	5. Chapter 5

Life at Coleshill was very different from living with his Aunt and Uncle.

For a start, it was strange to live in school 24/7, with no escape from teachers, pupils or work. Despite the long list of chores Harry received at the Dursley's every day, his life had never been busier, and he was rushed from tips to meals to sport.

His first week passed uneventfully, lessons more full-on and difficult than he was used to, but Harry enjoyed the challenge they presented, despite waking up stiff and sore every morning from the previous day's sport. They had a free period before lunch on Saturday, called a pop, that Harry and Tyler spent listening to music on Tyler's bed, and church every Sunday before sport, but other than that all of the days seemed to merge into a blur of tips, sport and meals.

Their daily schedules were full on: waking up at 0530 every day and then running around the school's perimeter before breakfast. Lessons started at 0630, and went on until 1330 Monday to Saturday. They had half an hour for lunch, during which time they had to get changed for sport in the afternoon, which usually ran until 1800, sometimes longer. On Thursdays, they had four more lessons after lunch instead of sport. After supper, they had two hours to complete their homework, which was the only time the boys every really got to relax, before all the doors locked and lights shut off at 2230. The busy week meant Harry was exhausted every night when he fell into bed.

Tuesday night, 8 days after he had arrived, Harry was rudely awakened by a shrill whistle outside the door. He heard the other boys in the dorm fumbling around and muttering curses, and stumbled out of bed.

"Was' goin'on?" He mumbled at Tyler, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses.

"PT." Tyler replied, scrambling to pull on his sports kit in the dark. "Get dressed." He threw Harry's sweaty sports top at him.

"Why?" Harry asked, struggling out of his pyjama top and looking around for his shorts.

Tyler sighed, and Harry could tell he was getting frustrated. The whistle was still blowing outside. "We have PT. Physical training." He explained.

"Now? What time is it?"

Tyler didn't look at his watch, instead threw Harry's trainers at him. "I would guess sometime after 0400."

"Jefferson, move it!" Javid called.

"Yeah we're coming." Tyler replied, waiting impatiently for Harry. "You don't have time for socks, hurry up." He snapped.

When Harry had tied his shoelace, Tyler grabbed his shirt and pulled him after him out of the room. They jogged after the retreating crowd of boys that were streaming out of all 8 dorms along the corridor. Harry could hear a second whistle blowing and boys stampeding out of the other dorms.

Lieutenant Colonel Pearson was standing in the middle of the corridor blowing the whistle, a mug of coffee in one hand and a stopwatch in the other. "Hurry up!" He shouted at them, and Tyler pulled Harry along faster.

They caught up with the running boys, and Harry shrugged off Tyler's grip on his shirt as they ran out onto the wet fields, Mr. Little shouting for silence.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Harry whispered.

"Just hurry up." Tyler replied, and wouldn't speak another word, glancing at Little and Smoke as they ran, and Harry decided to just watch where he ran so that he didn't trip over a clump of grass in the darkness.

They stopped at the end of the field furthest from the school, and the boys quickly shuffled around to form into lines in their dorms, standing to attention facing Mr. Smoke, Mr. Little and Colonel Hatcher, who was twirling her cane absently.

Harry wasn't sure how long they stood in silence, shivering in the cold and fighting not to fall asleep, but eventually Lieutenant Colonel Pearson appeared, a torch heralding his arrival as he walked down the grounds with Sargent Kent. They walked over to Mr. Smoke, and even in the dim light Harry saw the large man's teeth flash in a nasty smile as he was handed the stopwatches.

With a nod, Lt. Col. Pearson turned and began walking back up to the school, and a few boys straightened as Mr. Smoke stepped forwards.

"Well then you bunch of worthless maggots!" He shouted. "Lieutenant Colonel Pearson has just given me the time it took you to get out of your nice warm beds. And I must say, I am not disappointed. Blue team, you took six minutes 39 seconds." Mr Smoke raised an eyebrow. "Dorms A to H, however, you miserable lot took eight minutes, and twelve seconds." A few people let out quiet groans, and Mr. Smoke grinned. "Yes, not quite under six minutes now is it? So, as per usual, we are going to hold each exercise for the amount of time you were over your six minutes ten by."

Mr. Little stepped up next to him. "Those of you who are good at maths will have worked out that we will be doing each exercise for three minutes and fifty-two seconds!" He said. "So you'd best hurry up if you want breakfast."

"Lieutenant Colonel Pearson also told me that there were certain people who caused this large delay, and thus your prolonged suffering." Mr. Smoke said. Beside Harry, Tyler closed his eyes and seemed to sag.

"Potter! Jefferson! Step forwards." Mr. Little barked.

Harry copied Tyler and took two marching steps forwards.

"Do you have anything to say?" Colonel Hatcher asked, coming right up in front of them.

Tyler kicked Harry when he opened his mouth to reply, and barked "No, ma'am!"

"Why so slow getting up?"

"No excuses ma'am!"

"Do you want to go back up to bed?"

"No, ma'am!"

"Then get back in line!" Colonel Hatcher shouted, hitting Harry in the chest with the end of her cane. He fell down, almost colliding with Javid, and Tyler pulled on his shirt to get him to his feet.

"On haunches!" Mr. Smoke screamed.

Around him, the boys crouched and raised their hands, and Harry hurried to copy them, squatting on his toes with his feet spread wide apart, bum a few centimetres off the ground and hands behind his head. After a while, cramp began to creep into his thigh. He felt tears creeping into his eyes when Smoke announced that they had been going ten minutes, and was biting his tongue to keep from crying out at fifteen.

"Alright, get up!" Mr. Little cried, and Harry gratefully stood up, wincing and rubbing at his legs. He furiously swiped the tears from his eyes and stood to attention in front of Mr. Little.

"Now, we're going to go for a little jog." Mr. Smoke sneered. "Keep up!" He set off at a run, and the boys hurried to follow him. Harry struggled to keep up, fighting away the cramp in his legs. He found himself dropping back towards the back of the group, and was gasping for breath by the time they stopped on the other side of the grounds.

They had finished by a large set of monkey bars, and Harry followed Tyler as he climbed one of the ladders after Rex. Each dorm had gone to a different ladder and were beginning to cross the high monkey bars, so it was obviously something that happened often.

Struggling against the stitch in his chest, Harry climbed the ladder and managed to swing himself across the cold metal bars. There were dim torches lighting what Harry assumed was an assault course twisting through the trees, and he wearily ran towards a cargo net, ignoring the other boys around him and the instructors screaming abuse.

He pulled himself up the net, shoulders already stiff, and found a long rope extending in front of him. Glancing to the right showed him that people were hooking their legs around it and shuffling along, and Harry copied them, hoping his glasses wouldn't slip off his nose.

"Hurry up you cank." Oakley hissed, hitting his foot and almost causing it to slip off.

"Just go in front of me." Harry panted once he had climbed down the other side, and with a huff both Javid and Turk overtook him.

Harry ran after them, and tripped over a tyre set in the ground. He heard a snicker somewhere to the left but ignored it as hands hooked under his arms and helped him to his feet. Rex nodded at him then ran through the tyres, lifting his knees high, and Harry followed after him, copying the technique.

Harry flicked away the sweat that was collecting on his forehead and followed the crowd to a series of horizontal beams. Older boys with experience quickly vaulted over the seven beams and ran off the other side whilst he was left to clamber over them.

From the way the boys were running in slightly different directions, Harry thought that there were actually 4 or 5 different routes, but he followed the largest crowd to a pair of circular wooden beams over a shallow pond. The people on either side of him were standing on a beam each and grasping each other's forearms to balance as they crossed, but Harry couldn't see anybody in his dorm to cross with, and Mr. Smoke was only a few metres away.

He raised his arms for balance and made it about halfway along the slippery beam before sliding off sideways into the water. It was less than a foot deep, but freezing cold, and had a layer of thick mud at the bottom, making it hard work to wade through.

He struggled out of the other side and stumbled towards the next obstacle, a slanted wooden board with knotted ropes leading from the top.

Harry grabbed the rope in front of him and began to climb the board. He reached the top and slid down the other side, scraping his elbow as he went.

"Move it Potter!" Smoke screamed from just behind him. Harry clutched at the friction burn as he ran, and almost collided with the waist-height beam. He ducked under it, and was yanked back by a hand on his shirt. "Go over, you pathetic excuse for a human being!" Smoke screamed. Harry hoisted himself over the beam then started running along the path. "If you moved any slower, you'd be going backwards!" Smoke cried, jogging beside him.

Harry grit his teeth and carried on running until he reached a simple rope swing. His shoulders ached as he held onto the rope, swinging beside a short boy he hadn't seen before. Harry landed heavily on the other side, but he kept on running, trying to get away from Smoke.

He dropped to the ground and crawled through a tunnel, his throat tightening in the dark. The tunnel sloped upwards and he climbed out, then followed the track to a wooden construction. There were 8 ropes hanging from a tall beam, and boys were climbing up 3 of them. Harry looked at the top of the ropes, which seemed a long way away. He swallowed and grabbed one, and began the slow process of shimmying up the rope.

"Speed up Potter!" Mr. Little shouted, standing at the bottom of the ropes.

Harry ignored the large man and continued to heave himself up the rope. He jumped when he saw Mr. Little almost level with him on the rope beside him, but concentrated on placing one hand above the other and pulling his feet up until he reached the top.

Harry stood on the platform, panting from the exertion. A plain wooden beam extended out into the dark, and Harry glanced down, noting how far down the ground was. He hadn't seen any nets.

"Get moving." Mr. Little snapped, giving Harry a small shove towards the beam. Harry hesitantly began shuffling forwards along it, the large instructor right behind him and snapping insults and threats.

When he reached the platform at the end of the beam, Harry let out a sigh of relief, before realising there was no visible way down.

"What are you waiting for, a kiss from mummy?" Mr. Little roared. "Jump before I throw you!"

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "I can't ju-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Mr. Little grabbed his shirt and tossed him off the edge of the platform. He managed not to scream as he fell, and realised that it was an exhilarating feeling, only lessened by the shock that he had been thrown off.

He landed on a thick crash mat and scrambled off it and started jogging away. He heard Mr. Little land and start running after him.

"Yell 'clear' when you've moved away from the mat." He said. "And since you had such trouble with that rope, I think climbing it every morning at breakfast will do you some good." He added with a leer. "Now catch up!"

Harry would have objected if his lungs weren't already complaining from their lack of oxygen, and at Mr. Little's glare he put on a burst of speed and ran after the boys several metres ahead of him.

He caught up with them as they emerged into the field by the monkey bars, where the rest of the boys were waiting, crouched in the same excruciating position they had been in for twenty minutes before. There was a pile of large balls off to one side.

"Stand!" Colonel Hatcher shouted, and the boys all stood with relieved sighs. "Line up!"

They all shuffled into a line, and Harry struggled to catch his breath as they were all given a ball. He was surprised to find it was slightly weighted, over a kilogram.

"Squats!" Mr. Smoke cried, and the boys all bent their knees to pick up the ball. Harry watched as they straightened their legs and brought the balls above their heads, then brought them back down in a squat again. After watching it once he was sure he had the idea, and copied them, slipping into the rhythm of squat and stand, squat and stand.

"V-sits!" Mr. Smoke cried a few minutes later, and Harry flicked the sweat out of his eyes as he watched everybody sit down on the wet ground. He frowned and had to watch the boy next to him do the exercise a few times to work out what he was actually doing, but then lay flat on the ground and moved the ball from above his head, to over his knees, lifting his legs as he did. After only three times he felt the burning pull in his stomach and had a rest, then repeated the 'v-sit' a few more times before he was forced to rest again.

"Twist." Mr. Smoke called. He sounded almost bored, and when Harry glanced at him he was stood with Colonel Hatcher and Mr Little, all of whom were holding steaming flasks as they watched the boys.

Harry scowled as he moved the ball from either side of his body, sat on the cold grass.

"Speed up!" Mr. Little shouted. "Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right."

Harry's stomach was aching by the time Mr. Smoke called the next exercise. He happily moved and placed his hands on the ball, leaving his wet feet on the grass. He closed his eyes as he caught his breath, ignoring the trickle of sweat that ran down his back.

Without warning, he felt a whack on his lower back, and fell sideways off the ball.

"Put your arse down Potter." Colonel Hatcher said, and Harry realised she had hit him with her cane. "Get back on that ball." She snapped, and Harry moved back to his original position. He felt the tip of the cane push down on his lower back and force his bum lower, and the strain on his stomach and shoulders increased.

"That's better." Colonel Hatcher said, then began walking down along the line of boys, occasionally using her cane to straighten someone's back.

"Hold..." Mr. Little called.

Harry felt his arms beginning to shake.

"On your feet." Mr. Smoke shouted, and the twenty boys stood to attention facing the instructors, breathing heavily. He led them through a series of dynamic stretches, until finally, finally, they were told to run up to the sports hall with their medicine balls.

Harry found Tyler running next to Oscar, but fell back towards the back of the group during the journey back up to the school. Like the run down, nobody spoke, but now it was due to exhaustion as opposed to an enforced silence.

They joined the queue of boys leaving their balls in the sports hall, then followed them out and to the already familiar track around the grounds.

"Will still have to do this?" Harry panted.

"Of course." Tyler replied, rolling his eyes. "What kind of school would they be if we didn't."

Harry didn't reply, and focused on his breathing as they jogged together along the track.

35 minutes later, Harry and Tyler stumbled into C-dorm. Harry pulled off his filthy sports kit and left it in a heap by his bed, then headed into the bathroom with his towel. The air was hot and steamy, and when Harry rounded the corner to the showers there were only three free.

"Scheisse, vat happened to you?" Rex asked Harry, rubbing shampoo into his short hair.

Harry looked down at himself. His legs up to his knees were coated with mud, leaves and grass sticking to them. He had a large friction burn on his elbow, and a large bruise on his chest from Colonel Hatcher' cane. He was sure he would have one on his back too.

"I don't even know." He said, shaking his head. He let the hot water run over his face, and was surprised when it turned red as it ran down his chest. He reached up to his face and felt the dried blood on his lip, presumably from a nosebleed. "But I am not looking forward to tips today." He leant against the wall and closed his eyes, letting the hot water rush over his back. "Anyone got the time?" He called to the room at large.

"0638." Tyler replied, sliding into the shower next to him.

Harry sighed, and began tiredly washing the mud and blood off, determined not to miss breakfast again.

Tyler waited impatiently for him to get dressed, then they hurried down to breakfast together, Harry wrapping his tie around his neck as they went. He shoved it down under his jumper as they entered the dining hall, and grabbed a tray and cutlery. There was no queue to the counter, and Gladys dropped a spoonful of porridge onto their trays.

They headed over to their usual table, where the rest of the squad was already eating, but Harry found his way blocked by M. Dubois. "Tuck your shirt in Potter." He said.

Harry glanced down and saw the corner of his shirt poking out from his trousers. "Yes sir."

"Five laps by Friday, please." M. Dubois said.

Harry nodded. "Yes sir." He continued on to his table and set down his tray, then tucked his shirt in before dropping into his seat. Harry groaned and held his head in his hands, accepting a cup of water from Rex, before scoffing down the thin porridge before lessons.


	6. Chapter 6

They had night-time PT four more times in the next 6 weeks, one of which involved them being dropped in a field 10 miles from the school and told to make their way back in time for breakfast. His second time running the obstacle course, Harry had slipped off the monkey bars and twisted his ankle. He had been forced to complete the run, trying not to cry the entre time, and by the time they got back to the dorm, his foot had turned a splotchy purple. Nurse Sparrow in the Sani had given him a note excusing him from sport the next day, something Mr. Little had completely ignored, making him lift weights and stretch in his next 1-on-1 session instead of running. ("You're not using your ankle, are you? No! Then get on with it!")

As the days went by, Harry saw his times on the morning run decrease, and noticed he was getting more muscled as he learnt judo and karate. His grades improved steadily when he didn't have to intentionally answer questions wrong so as not to show up Dudley, even in subjects like military tactics and strategy that they had on Saturdays and Sundays. These lessons were unusual, as they were often taught outside, and involved mock-battle scenarios between squads, not always during the actual lesson. Being attacked by Alpha squad at three in the morning had made Harry increasingly paranoid and jumpy, but had at least increased his situational awareness, which was the point of the lessons. The boys often joked that they were being trained up for the apocalypse.

Every ten days, each dorm also had kitchen duty, where they had to stay behind after E.M. and help Gladys and the cooks wash up after the meal. It was disgusting and exhausting work, Bradley the head chef standing behind them and slapping their heads if they didn't work fast enough.

Harry soon found the strange Coleshill slang ran off his tongue more and more easily, until the mainstream words seemed like the unusual ones. The weather in North Wales also took more getting used to; even in just 6 weeks they had experienced snow, rain, sun, a small hurricane, hail, and three days of thick fog.

Two weeks after he had arrived, Harry was sent to Captain Adcock in the Ark to have his hair cut again. He was too used to having his hair cut to put up much of a fight.

The biggest surprise came on the Friday after his first day, when he handed in his Chemistry Banco. Harry hadn't had time to complete it Thursday night, and so had asked Tyler to look at his. He had copied down the answers, changing them slightly so as not to make it obvious. Unfortunately, he didn't change them enough, and Major Bradford told them both to stay behind at the end of the tip once he had dismissed the rest of the class.

They stood to attention next to his desk.

"Private Potter, would you like to explain why yours and Private Jefferson's banco are so very similar?" He began, in a dangerously soft voice.

"Well, sir, I-"

Major Bradford had interrupted him. "Did you or did you not copy Jefferson's Hall, Potter?"

"No sir-" Harry said.

"That, Private Potter, is detention on Sunday for lying." Major Bradford turned to Tyler. "Private Jefferson, why would you allow him to do such a thing?"

"I let him look at my book so he could understand the topic better, sir." Tyler replied.

"And why did you not come and see me, Potter?"

"Sir?" Harry frowned.

"Why did you not come and see me if you did not understand the work I set you?"

"I... didn't know I could during banco."

Major Bradford had raised an eyebrow. "Even though I have explicitly told you on more than one occasion that you could come and see me any time if you needed help?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I am giving you both a div." Major Bradford said as he opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a thin rod. "Jefferson." He held out his hand, and Tyler gave him his own. Major Bradford brought the wooden rod down on the back of Tyler's hand 7 times, leaving a bright red mark. Tyler had made no sound during the punishment, and only nodded when Major Bradford told him it was over. The teacher then turned to Harry, holding out his hand again, and Harry had nervously held out his own. The wooden rod stung when it his his bare skin, and Harry gasped. The back of his hand began bleeding after 4 hits, the bright red a stark contrast to his dark skin.

"I trust this has taught you your lesson." Major Bradford said as he placed the stick back in the drawer.

"Yes sir." Harry nodded.

"You are dismissed." Major Bradford said, and Harry had followed Tyler out of the classroom cradling his hand.

"Here." Tyler said, handing Harry a red bandana.

"Thanks." Harry replied, and tried to wrap it around his right hand. Tyler had laughed slightly and gently done it for him.

"Sorry." Harry said sheepishly. "That was my fault, I shouldn't have copied your work."

"It's fine." Tyler shook his head. "That's going to happen more than once." He held up his hand, which Harry now noticed had a few raised lines on it; scars criss-crossing the back of his hand, obviously from previous divs. Harry had seen scars similar to them up the inside of a few boys' forearms, but he had never seen a stiff div there. "That's why mine didn't bleed."

Tyler had a jar of antiseptic cream in his drawer in the dorm, and when they returned after the tip, he had gently spread some of it over the back of Harry's hand before wrapping it back up with the bandana.

"You can keep the bandana, I've got loads." Tyler said. "Besides, it's covered in your blood now."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

Tyler shrugged. "You'd end up borrowing it loads anyway."

Harry smiled. "Probably true."

It was hard to forget that the boys in Coleshill were all there for a reason.

Many of them had to see a therapist or counsellor each week, and a few had anger management issues verging on psychosis.

After two weeks of 1-on-1 training with Mr. Little in his sports sessions, Harry joined the rest of his squad in the afternoons, although he still had to climb up the rope on the assault course every morning after he had run around the grounds. The only good thing that came of it was the exhilarating feeling he got when he launched himself from the top of the platform.

The whole school had sport together, and it was during a combat session that Harry had his first shocking reminder of how violent and dangerous some of the boys were.

Whilst they were sparring, they were meant to pull their punches or intentionally aim off target in order not to injure one another, and almost all of the staff closely supervised them to stop any proper fights that might occur.

Harry had been sparring with Tyler, who despite his inexperience did not go easy on Harry, and he found himself thrown into the mud again and again and again.

Harry was unaware of the turbulence building further down the field, until an ear-splitting scream rang through the thuds and grunts of the sparring boys, and suddenly all of the adults were running towards the source of the sound.

The boys rushed to follow them as Mr. Smoke pulled a heavily tattooed teenager away from Ning his sparring partner and threw him to the ground.

Everybody crowded around the boy left on the floor, and there were murmurs and exclamations as they looked at him. Harry craned his neck, trying to see over the heads of much taller boys, until Colonel Hatcher ordered them to stand to attention in their dorms against the fence on pain of a drubbing. Harry wasn't entirely sure what that was, but by the way even Nat and Turk hurried to move against the fence, it wasn't a good thing, and he moved into place.

100 metres away, Ning was crying silently on the ground, but he was blocked from view by Lieutenant Colonels Tate and Pearson. The tattooed boy Harry didn't know was still on the ground, restrained and handcuffed by Mr. Smoke.

They stood to attention for over half an hour as an ambulance was called and it arrived. Harry was bored and uncomfortable after fifteen minutes, but Colonel Hatcher and Major Doctor Norwood were stood in front of them, glaring at anybody who moved and handing out laps like they were going out of fashion. He shifted from foot to foot, and Tyler managed to kick him hard in the shin without the stiffs noticing to tell him to stop.

Harry caught sight of Ning as he was loaded into the ambulance, and his stomach lurched. The boy's leg was bloody and pointed at a strange angle, and Harry could see a glint of white where his bone was poking out through his shin.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying not to be sick, and it was a relief to be lead back up to the main school.

Later that day, Harry saw the tattooed boy walking with a distinct limp, and wincing whenever he sat down, and thought he had a pretty good idea what a 'drubbing' was.

In the evening, Harry inspected the tattoo on Tyler's chest as they watched a film on his iPod. It was a circle, with two curved lines coming out sideways off the top.

"What's this?" he asked, pointing at it.

"It's my star sign. Taurus."

"Can I get one?"

Tyler looked at him. "Sure. Peterson's got a stick and poke."

Harry frowned. "What's that?"

Tyler paused the movie. "It's a slow way of getting a tattoo, but he can hide it in his dorm."

"Oh Why's it so slow?"

"Because it isn't electric." Tyler explained. "You have do it essentially one dot at a time."

"What's my star sign?"

"When's your birthday?"

"31st of July."

Tyler thought for a second. "Leo. It's... a bit like a weird 'd' shape." He said, tracing a shape on Harry's shoulder.

"Can I get one like yours?"

Tyler shrugged. "We can ask him before you come to mine over Christmas."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you're coming to my house for the holidays." Tyler said. "I invited you weeks ago."

"Oh." Harry said. "I thought you were joking or something."

"We've been talking abut it for ages." Tyler laughed. "We break up in two weeks!"

Harry couldn't quite match Tyler's enthusiasm. Christmas had never been much fun at the Dursley's, listening to Dudley unwrap countless presents, as he cooked a huge turkey dinner and cake.

Tyler's watch gave a quiet beep as it reached the half hour, and the lights flicked off, closely followed by an echoing metallic thunking as the outside doors all locked.

Harry and Tyler talked quietly for a few more minutes, before Harry settled down on the older boy's chest. He fell asleep looking forward to the Christmas holidays he would be spending with Tyler.

Ning was off school for over a week, and returned with his left leg encased in a green cast that he happily let everybody sign before his marker was confiscated.

With something to look forward to, the next two weeks passed by quickly.

On Friday 14th, a week before term was due to end, they had to go to Brigadier O'Reilly's office and request permission to go home for the holiday, which the Brigadier seemed reluctant to grant. On their way back from his office, they ran into Kevin Peterson, and Tyler arranged for him to give Harry the stick-and-poke tattoo the next day in B-dorm.

Harry got a Taurus tattoo on his left bicep, gritting his teeth against the pain of a needle poking into his skin again and again. Tyler handed over a pile of assignments he had collected from A-level students that had all scored 85% or over as they left. It had all been rather complicated: Tyler had traded a stack of cereal bars for a copy of Bruce Snow's GCSE chemistry notes, which he had given to Jace Wyatt for £20. He had gotten a small black throwing knife from one of the corps, which Robert McKinnley swapped for a large variety pack of Cadbury chocolates and sachets of instant coffee powder. These had been discretely distributed amongst the top set geography A-level, as well as promises to polish their boots for them in exchange for the completed essays and worksheets. Harry rather thought that he was going to have to be the one to clean and polish the shoes, despite Tyler organising it all. Contraband and favours were exchanged like this a lot at Coleshill, but Harry was still impressed with the efficiency of Tyler's negotiating skills.

Harry got more and more excited as the week progressed, to the point where he earned two divs of 5 hits on separate occasions for not paying attention in class. He had never been over to a friend's house for so much as a sleepover, so spending a whole week at Tyler's house – which had a _pool_ – was rather more exciting than a bunch of monasteries being closed down in the 16th Century, in Harry's opinion, and he had spent most of the tip absently pushing pencils into his hair.

On the last day of school, Harry was practically buzzing with excitement. He woke early, and quietly dressed, then packed a set of his uniform, his sports kit and his pyjamas into his old duffle bag.

He went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, then put his wash things in the bag as well. Harry glanced at Tyler, still asleep on Harry's bed. His digital watch beeped twice for the half-hour, and Harry groaned as he realised he still had over 6 hours until they would be leaving Coleshill.

Tyler's eyes fluttered open, and he peered at Harry blearily. "What're you doing?" He whispered, rubbing his face.

"Nothing."

"Why're you dressed?"

Harry shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

"I may as well get up now." Tyler sighed.

"Sorry." Harry whispered.

"Don't worry about it." Tyler yawned. He rummaged through the drawer for his sports kit. "You better not get up this early during the week."

Harry grinned. "I won't."

Tyler caught sight of Harry's duffle bag on the floor. "Have you packed everything already?"

"Yeah." Harry shrugged.

Tyler laughed quietly as he pulled his sports shirt on. "Can't say I blame you. I can't wait to get out of this place."

Harry nodded and threw Tyler's shorts at him.

"Thanks." Tyler grunted, taking his pyjama bottoms off and getting dressed.

"Hey, can you help me with the French?" Harry asked. "I don't get it."

"Sure thing." Tyler grinned. "You'd be in like set six without me."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, probably. I'm 100% moving down again soon."

Tyler yawned and stretched. "I don't suppose there's any way I'm going to persuade you to go back to sleep?"

"Not a chance."

"How was cleaning duty yesterday?" Tyler smirked, pulling a hoody on over his sports kit.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I got a _tiny_ but of mud in the library after combat, and he made me clean the whole trank entrance and stairs. It's mental."

"Well, thanks for bringing up my post anyway." Tyler said.

Harry sighed and opened his French folder. "So what is this? I don't get it, like, at all."

Tyler laughed. "Pluperfect?"

"Yeah." Harry sat down. "What does that even _mean_?"

"It translates as 'I had' whatever." Tyler explained, kneeling down next to Harry and pointing at his exercise book. "You just take the imperfect of either avoir or être, and then the past participle of the verb you want."

"I understood about seven words of that." Harry said blankly.

Tyler sighed, and spent the next forty minutes coaching Harry through French exercises before the bell rang outside.

"Why are you even doing that, you don't have French today." Tyler said, flopping on Harry's bed.

"It's the stuff that was due Tuesday." Harry winced.

"Nice going. That's what, fifteen laps?"

"20. I've already been given three divs for it."

With a large sigh, Tyler sat up and pulled on his trainers, just as Fu started shouting outside, and Harry groaned.

The run in the snow dampened Harry's excitement slightly, but in its absence a wave of questions and uncertainties invaded his head. All though biology and chemistry Harry was wondering what Tyler's parents would think of him. Would he be infringing on their family Christmas? Was he supposed to get Tyler a present? With what money? What if they though he was a delinquent? What if he was always in the way? Would they expect him to earn his keep, even just for a week? Where would he sleep? How-

"Would you stop it?" Tyler hissed.

Harry looked up from the Latin comprehension he hadn't been doing. "What?"

"Worrying."

"What do I have to worry about?"

Tyler rolled his eyes. "_Exactly_. My parents will mostly leave us alone."

"Harry's staying at yours?" Owen asked.

"Yeah. And he's worrying."

Oscar frowned. "About what?"

"I have no idea." Whispered Tyler.

"What does 'felix' mean?" Harry asked.

"Lucky." Tyler replied. "Don't change the subject. What do you want to do during the week?"

Harry shrugged. "What is there?"

"There's a cinema in town, we can go out on the horses... whatever."

Harry looked up. "You have horses?"

"Yeah." Tyler shrugged. "My parents are loaded."

"That's one way of putting it." Oscar muttered. Owen snorted.

"Concentrate, you lot." Major Kelly called from the front of the classroom.

"Look, the driver is coming at twelve. If you spend the next hour and a bit until then constantly worrying, you'll have a panic attack before he even gets here. Just _chill_."

Harry sighed. "Fine. Sorry."

"Brilliant. Now, has anyone got the answer to number seven?"

Five minutes later, the bell rang outside the classroom, and the boys began packing away their things.

"Finish that exercise before next lesson." Major Kelly said. "And don't forget to learn the third page of your vocab book for the test on Wednesday. If you're going home, you'll have to do it in detention on Sunday afternoon."

Harry picked up his yellow Latin folder and waited behind his chair with the rest of the class.

"Dismissed."

Owen and Oscar started talking as soon as they were out of the classroom, and Harry blocked out their conversation as he followed the now-familiar route to C-dorm to collect his geography books.

"You know you said about a pool," Harry began, turning to Tyler.

"Yeah?" Tyler looked down at him, laughing at something Oscar had said.

"Well, I don't have any swimmers or anything."

Tyler shrugged. "We can go into town and buy you some. Or just go without." He wiggled his eyebrows and Harry punched him.

"Ow!" Tyler laughed, holding the door open for him

"An hour of Gibson." Harry groaned.

"And then a week of freedom." Tyler replied.

Harry grinned. "There is that." He grabbed his geography folder and followed Tyler out of the dorm with a longing look at his duffle bag.

"Let's go discuss _clouds_." Oscar said, rolling his eyes as the twins joined them walking down the corridor.

"We've got a test next tip as well." Owen said.

"Ha, we're missing it."

Owen laughed. "Unlucky, you'll have to do it in detention."

"Kubowa." Harry swore. "What's even in a test on clouds? I mean, they're fluffy water."

"Anyway you guys can tell us what's on it." Tyler said. "That way we don't have to study."

"As if." Oscar scoffed. "Gibson'd have us running laps 'til Easter if he found out! I don't like you _that_ much."

Tyler pulled a face. "How would he find out? It's not like you'd tell him, would you?"

Owen rolled his eyes. "I swear, you're only even in our set because we give you all the answers. Ow!"

Tyler had just punched him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everyone,  
I hope you're enjoying the story so far!  
A few people have commented/PM'd me saying that they're not sure what a couple of the Coleshill slang words mean, so I thought I'd put a short list in now. Sorry if I haven't made these clear; it's hard to remember that whilst I've read through the entire fic multiple times, you guys are coming to the story fresh with no prior knowledge. It helps that a lot of the unusual words are also ones that I've used myself in various schools/situations, so I just assume everybody knows what I'm talking about!  
Anyway:**

**Biff - idiot (kind of in an affectionate way? Used amongst friends)**

**Cank - Idiot/prick (much meaner/ruder)**

**Canky - shit/fucking (this canky movie is canky = this fucking movie is shit etc. depends on context)**

**Kubowa - fuck**

**Trank - shit**

**Corp - short for corporal. Act like prefects in the school**

**Tip - lesson**

**Pop - free period**

**Stiff - teacher/staff**

**Civs - home clothes (not uniform)**

**Sani - school sick bay/medical wing**

**Aerie - upper floors of school where teacher's quarters/staff room are found**

**Ark - School shop/store room**

**EM - Evening meal. **

**Banco - homework**

**Bivved (off) - pissed (off)**

**Layoff - holiday**

**Winkered - tired**

**Hooging - raining**

**Hooging crimps - snowing/hailing**

**Krana - friend/mate**

**rooping - hungry**

**Lock up - curfew**

**Shack(ed) off - piss(ed) off**

**I think that's all of the weird words I've used :P Hope this helps, and sorry for any confusion!**

**On with the story!**

When the bell rang for the end of the tip, it took all of Harry's self-control not to jump out of his chair and run out of the classroom. As it was, he continued to write, ignoring the twins' sniggers.

"Alright, start packing up." Major Gibson finally said.

Harry had finished putting his things in his pencil case before the others had even stopped writing, and pulled on his beret, practically bouncing in excitement as the rest of the class packed up.

"Stand behind your desks." Major Gibson said, as if they didn't have to do it at the end of every tip. "Dismissed."

Harry hurried out of the classroom and practically raced back to C-dorm, Tyler following behind.

Harry didn't really understand why he was so excited, it was only for 2 weeks, and he was always with Tyler anyway, but this Christmas was looking to be the best one of his life.

Once in the dorm, he dumped his books on his desk, then pulled off his beret and tie, tossing them onto his bed as Tyler came in.

"In a hurry?" Tyler laughed.

"Sorry."

Tyler laughed and began taking off his school uniform, changing into a pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie. Harry kept his school trousers on, swapping his white shirt for his sports top and pulling Tyler's old jumper on over the top.

He picked up his duffle bag and stood waiting as Tyler changed.

"Seriously Krana, what's the rush?" Tyler laughed.

"You said the driver would be here at 12." Harry replied.

Tyler shrugged. "I like pissing him off."

Harry rolled his eyes as Tyler went into the bathroom to retrieve his toothbrush.

"You got the geo and history stuff?"

"What stuff?"

Tyler rolled his eyes. "Gibson and Hatcher would kill us if we don't do any work over the holidays. We've got to take the banco they set."

"Oh right." Harry said.

He put his folders in his duffle bag as Tyler threw his backpack over one shoulder. "Shall we go?"

"Yes." Harry replied, almost immediately. Tyler laughed and followed him out of the dorm.

Owen and Oscar were in their sports kit talking to Blake in the corridor.

"Enjoy combat in the rain." Tyler smirked.

"I can't believe you two are buggering off for two weeks." Oscar moaned.

Blake raised his eyebrows. "You got both weeks?"

"Ten days." Tyler shrugged.

"Lucky buggers."

"Tyler's always such a jammy little sod." Owen said, then dodged the kick aimed at his shin.

Tyler threw an arm over Harry's shoulders as they walked down the corridor.

They walked through the empty corridors to the reception desk by the front door, and Tyler winked at the receptionist as he leant on the counter. "Hey Susan, is Ming here yet?"

"Get off my desk, Jefferson." The receptionist sniffed. "And it's Mrs. Crompton to you. Mr. Wan is waiting outside."

Tyler nodded and opened the large front doors, and Harry followed after him, shutting the doors before jumping the stone steps.

A short Asian man was waiting by a large black Mercedes. He glanced at his watch before walking towards Tyler. "You're late, Mr. Jefferson."

Tyler ignored him and just handed the man his backpack before climbing into the backseat.

"Potter, I presume?" The driver said, distaste clear in his voice. He held a white-gloved hand out for Harry's bag, and Harry handed it to him without replying, before quickly getting into the car.

The interior of the car was spacious and elegant, all chromed leather, with DVD players on the headrests in front of them.

Tyler banged on the plastic partition between the front and back of the car as Ming dropped into the driver's seat. "Go via McDonald's on the way back, Ming."

"Your father instructed me to bring you straight home, sir." The driver replied, putting the car into gear and pulling forwards.

"And I'm instructing you to get us some lunch on the way."

"Yes sir."

Tyler grinned at Harry and stretched out on the backseat. "This holiday's going to be awesome."

Harry grinned back at him. "How long's the journey?"

"Around 2 hours." Tyler replied. He unclipped his seatbelt and put his feet up on the leather seat.

"Mr. Jefferson, please put your seatbelt back on." Ming said.

"Keep your eyes on the road." Tyler snapped.

"Maybe you should," Harry said. "I mean, what if we crash?"

"Father wouldn't pay him if he was going to crash."

They spent the journey talking and watching Goodfellas on the DVD player in front of them. Ming stopped at a McDonald's drive-thru at 1 o'clock, and the boys enjoyed burgers and milkshakes with the end of their film.

Harry looked out of the window when Ming slowed in front of an ornate gate, that swung forwards as he approached.

The long gravel drive was lined by statues and sculpted trees, and Harry could see a stone fountain up ahead.

"The pool's over there." Tyler said, pointing through the trees to a large building.

Harry turned and stared at him as Ming stopped the car on the other side of the fountain. The mansion was grey stone, with ivy climbing up the walls and large windows.

"You _live_ here?" Harry asked, gaping out the window.

Tyler smirked. "Yeah. Our holiday house in Austria is nicer though. Leave our bags in my room." Tyler said to the driver as he climbed out of the car. "Come on Harry."

Harry grinned and raced after him.

The inside of the house was just as grand as the exterior. The front door opened into a large area, with a tiled floor and a coat rack on one side.

Tyler kicked his shoes off and threw them towards a line of boots against one wall. "You want a tour?"

"Yeah." Harry grinned.

Tyler pulled him past the sweeping wooden staircase. "Father's study is that way," He said, gesturing back the way they had come. "as well as the library and the drawing room." He pushed open a door to reveal a large oak-panelled room with a huge table, large enough to seat twenty. "This is the dining hall, and the kitchen's through there." He pointed to a second door on the other side of the room.

They walked past the dining hall to a large room with stiff sofas and spindly coffee tables. "This is the living room, and the conservatory."

Harry glanced out of the glass wall and felt his mouth fall open. From the conservatory, he could see the grounds stretching on, sculpted bushes and hedges leading to a large lake. "How big is you canky house?" He asked, turning to Tyler.

Tyler just shrugged. "Shall we go upstairs?"

"Sure." Harry shook his head.

Tyler led him back to the entrance hall, really there was no other word for it.

"That's the pantry." He said, pointing to a door next to the dining hall. "If you're rooping just help yourself."

Harry nodded and followed him up the huge staircase.

"Mother and Father's rooms are on the first floor," Tyler said as they climbed the stairs. "and it's mainly spare rooms on the second. My room's on the top floor."

"Cool." Harry nodded.

Tyler's room turned out to be most of the top floor, with a huge double bed, sofa, T.V. and large en suite bathroom. There was a cricket bat in one corner of the room, and a large black sticker on the wall of a batsman mid-swing. The only other room on the floor was a large den, with a dart board and foosball table, as well as a mini-fridge and microwave.

Their bags were waiting just inside the door, and Harry grinned as Tyler dived onto his bed and sat against the headboard. Harry lay on his stomach next to him.

Tyler looked at the clock on his bedside table. "We've got like 3 hours until supper, what do you want to do?"

"What is there?" Harry asked.

"Do you want to go on the go karts?"

"Yes." Harry nodded. "Of course I fucking do."

Tyler laughed. "You'll probably want to get changed though, you'll get muddy."

Harry took his sports kit out of his duffle bag and quickly changed, then raced Tyler down the stairs. He followed the older boy out the back door and down a paved path, down to a muddy race track marked out by tires.

There was a large metal shed beside the track, with 2 hefty padlocks on the double doors.

"Have you got a key?" Harry asked.

"Nah, course not." Tyler scoffed. "Father locks them up."

Harry frowned. "So how..."

Tyler pulled a set of lock picks out of his pocket and winked.

Harry laughed and watched as Tyler expertly jimmied the padlocks open. "Can you teach me that?"

"Sure." Tyler shrugged. "It's fairly simple." He grinned over his shoulder, then slid the doors open to reveal 4 blue open-chassis go karts with motors behind the seats.

"This is sick." Harry said. He looked up at Tyler. "How fast do they go?"

"About 30km/h, but it feels way faster." Tyler replied. He threw a helmet with a visor at Harry, who caught it with a grin.

Together, they wheeled two of the light aluminium buggies out of the shed and to the start of the track, then pulled on their helmets.

"8-lap race?" Tyler said.

"You're on."

The seats were less than 20cm off the ground, with thick tires and a motorbike engine behind the driver, and Harry grinned as Tyler started his engine for him, the whole frame vibrating beneath him.

He looked over at Tyler, who raised his arm in the air, then dropped it, and they sped off down the track.

3 hours later, they were freezing, wet, and covered in mud. Despite the floodlights that had turned on, it was too dark to safely drive any more, but Harry was grinning the whole time they wheeled the buggies back into the shed and walked back to the house.

"That was awesome." He said, peeling off his filthy trainers at the door.

The boys hurried up the stairs to Tyler's room, eager for a hot shower.

Tyler's en suite bathroom was ginormous, with a huge bath, a double shower and underfloor heating beneath the grey tiles.

They left their muddy clothes in a pile by the door and stood under the stream of water.

Once they were clean, they got into their pyjamas and Harry pulled his jumper on over the top. "What time's food?" He asked.

"Usually around 1900 hours." Tyler replied, shrugging. "Henri rings a bell."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"What? It's a big house. Father hates it when people shout."

Harry laughed. "You can say that again." He flopped backwards on Tyler's bed. As if on cue, a ringing bell sounded up the stairs.

"Come on then." Tyler sighed. "Time to meet the parents."

Harry stood up, and ran down the stairs as Tyler slid down the curved wooden bannister.

"Tyler Jefferson, what have I told you about doing that in my house!"

The woman who spoke was rather short, with the same brown hair and nose as Tyler. She was dressed in a long white dress and heels, with diamonds that looked like they cost the same amount as Uncle Vernon's car hanging from each ear.

"Sorry Mother." Tyler said, looking very unapologetic.

"Oh darling, it's wonderful to see you again." Mrs. Jefferson said, pulling Tyler into a hug. She spotted Harry as she released him. "You must be Harry."

"Yes ma'am."

A tall man with grey hair rounded the corner from the direction of the study. He was dressed in a business suit and was tucking a mobile phone into his inside pocket. "Why on earth are you in your pyjamas, Anthony?"

"Nice to see you too, dad."

"Don't be rude, Tyler." Mrs. Jefferson admonished. "Charles, he's on holiday. Let the boys wear what they want."

Mr. Jefferson seemed ready to argue that point, but a short, rather fat man wearing an apron emerged from the dining hall and interrupted. "Dinner is ready, sir."

"Thank you, Henri." Mrs. Jefferson nodded, and they followed him into the dining hall, where four places were set around one end of the table.

"So, how's school been?" Mrs. Jefferson asked, as Henri served everybody some sort of mini pancake and fish.

Tyler shrugged. "Fine."

The meal was spent in a slightly uncomfortable silence, Mr. Jefferson occasionally waffling on the golf club or his incompetent lesbian assistant.

After the pancakes, Harry sat through soup, steak, and chocolate tart, answering any questions he was asked, but otherwise not speaking.

"Coffee?" Henri asked, clearing away their desert plates.

"Nope." Tyler said, standing up. "Come on Harry."

Harry stood up too. "Thank you for the meal, Henri."

The chef bowed his head in thanks, and the two boys left the dining hall before Mr. Jefferson could stop them.

"Well, that was painful." Tyler said as they ran up the stairs, and Harry laughed.

He dropped onto a beanbag in front of the TV in Tyler's room.

"You want to watch a movie?" Tyler asked, opening a cupboard next to the large screen to reveal a collection of DVDs.

Harry shrugged. "Sure."

"You choose one, and I'll go make some popcorn next door."

Ten minutes later, they were settled on Tyler's bed, watching Batman with a bowl of salted microwave popcorn between them.

"This is way better than the titchy screen we have to use at school." Harry grinned.

"Too true."

Harry grabbed a handful of popcorn. "Why'd your dad call you Anthony?"

Tyler pulled a face. "Because that's my name. Anthony Tyler Horatio Jefferson."

"Horatio?" Harry giggled.

"Shack off." Tyler threw a piece of popcorn at Harry's head, and he burst out laughing.


	8. Chapter 8

Christmas day was the 5th day of their holiday. Mr. Jefferson was working, so Harry and Tyler spent the morning with Mrs. Jefferson opening presents.

Harry had been shocked when Tyler had thrown a dozen wrapped gifts at him from under the tree, and had somewhat guiltily handed over his own present.

Tyler had loved the colour drawing of the two of them, but Harry had felt bad at only giving him a piece of paper when Tyler had bought him a sweatshirt, a tin of watercolour paints, a shark tooth necklace, a watch, a large box of refreshers, and swimming trunks.

Tyler received almost as many presents as Dudley usually did, mostly from his parents. The living room looked like a shoal of piranhas had attacked a beach, with wrapping paper taking the place of flesh, and Tyler the place of the fish.

They left their presents in the living room, then had a light lunch and raced down the grounds to spend the afternoon go karting.

Henri rang the dinner bell just as Harry was getting into the shower, and he quickly scrubbed the mud of and dressed.

Tyler's parents were already seated in the dining hall, small pastry parcels of caviar on the plates in front of them.

"Happy Christmas, Anthony." Mr. Jefferson said as they sat down.

Tyler nodded and stuffed a caviar parcel into his mouth whole.

"Tyler Jefferson, that is repulsive." Mrs. Jefferson sniffed.

"Sorry."

They ate the pastries in relative silence, before Henri cleared away their plates.

"Where is Marsha?" Mr. Jefferson asked, picking up his spoon as the chef placed a bowl of soup in front of him.

"She was cleaning the floor in the boot room." Mrs. Jefferson replied. "There were muddy footprints all on the tiles."

Mr. Jefferson turned to Tyler. "You've been tracking mud through the house? I suppose you went down to that infernal race track. I thought this school of yours made a big deal out of following the rules and discipline?"

"Charles, don't. It's Christmas." Mrs. Jefferson pleaded, as Tyler opened his mouth to argue. "How was the office?"

Harry ate his soup as Mr. Jefferson ranted about incompetent workers in his business, trying not to laugh at the faces Tyler was pulling opposite him.

When they had all finished their starter, Henri carried in platters laden with carrots, peas, stuffing, sprouts, chestnuts, parsnips, sausages, potatoes, and a huge carved turkey, as well as a gammon joint and jugs of gravy.

Harry thought about the Dursley's last Christmas dinner, which had consisted of a turkey, potatoes, sausages and carrots, and had taken him and Aunt Petunia all afternoon to prepare. He could only imagine how long Henri had been working for, and it was all delicious.

The family talked about a ski trip they had made to Austria last Christmas, and Harry listened on as Tyler declared that he would be coming with them next year.

Harry and Tyler both had second and third helpings of everything, but the four of them barely ate half of the food on the table between them. Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson drank two bottles of wine with their meal, and Henri brought glasses of port out with the flaming Christmas pudding and Yule log he had made for dessert.

Harry had stuffed himself full to bursting with turkey, but managed to find space for a slice of chocolate cake before he and Tyler excused themselves after wishing the adults a Happy Christmas.

They raced up the stairs up to Tyler's room, and flopped next to each other on the large double bed.

"Oh man, I'm stuffed." Tyler laughed.

"Same." Harry grinned, kicking off his trainers.

Tyler sighed and rolled onto his back. He didn't seem to want to talk, so Harry lay quietly next to him, their legs almost touching.

The light from the blue lava lamp on the bedside table threw shadows over Tyler's face as he flicked his fringe out of his eyes. It was only then that Harry noticed the brown ring around the iris of his blue eyes. The longer Harry looked, the more he realised that they weren't really just blue, either. The honey-brown ring was surrounded by a blue like a stormy sea. How many times had he looked into Tyler's face and not seen the intricate lines and patterns hidden in the iris?

Tyler blinked, momentarily hiding the dazzling eyes, and Harry shook his head. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He suddenly sat up, grinning, then reached over and pulled a bottle of Smirnoff out from under his bed, holding it out to Harry. "Yeah?"

"Where did you get it?" Harry asked.

"Yates gave it to me before we left." Tyler replied, unscrewing the cap. "I've been saving it for today."

Harry laughed as Tyler took a swig straight from the bottle, then handed it over with a grin.

Harry took the bottle and lifted it to his lips, then hesitated. "Are you sure-"

"Oh get on with it." Tyler said, rolling his eyes.

Harry tipped the bottle back, and swallowed a mouthful of the clear liquid. It burned the back of his throat, and he gasped, handing the bottle back to Tyler as he bent over coughing.

Tyler laughed and took another swig. "I'll make a man out of you yet."

"That stuff is _strong_!" Harry gasped.

"Strong enough to get smashed off our _faces_." Tyler sang.

Harry rolled his eyes. "We are not going to get _that_ drunk."

"And then I was like 'fuck you Jones! I don't want to shut up'." Harry slurred, draped over the end of Tyler's bed. "And he was all up in my face, like this." He scrambled onto the bed and pressed his forehead against Tyler's. "And he was like 'fuck you Potter.' And then I punched him in the face."

"Whoa." Tyler said, taking a large gulp of vodka.

"I know right." Harry replied, dropping next to Tyler and swiping the bottle. "We should go for a swim. In the pool."

He stood up and tripped over his jeans that were lying on the floor where he had left them an hour ago when they played strip poker, tipping the rest of the alcohol onto the carpet.

"God doesn't want us to go swimming." He giggled. "He wants us to lie on the floor. Come lie on the floor with me."

Tyler dropped onto the thick carpet next to Harry, who remained lying down.

A few minutes later Tyler poked his bare ankle. "You asleep?"

Harry sat up with a jerk. "No." He grabbed Tyler's bicep and smiled. "You're muscly."

"You're drunk." Tyler replied.

Harry shook his head. "No I'm not."

"Really?" Tyler said, raising an eyebrow. He pointed towards the bathroom. "Walk over there in a straight line."

Harry got to his feet and glared at Tyler. "Fine then." He staggered forwards a few steps, moving in a very not straight line. About halfway to the bathroom he tripped over his trainer and fell forwards onto his face. "'M not drunk!"

Tyler helped him to his feet through his laughter. "Course you're not." He lifted Harry off the ground and carried him over to the bed. "Sit there." He went into the bathroom and came back out with a glass of water. "Drink this."

Harry gulped the glass down then held it out. "More." Tyler took the glass back and refilled it in the bathroom, then made Harry drink it all before filling it up for himself.

Harry was lying in the middle of the bed when he returned, dwarfed by the large mattress. He watched Tyler pull off his polo shirt and jeans and drop onto the bed next to him, giggling when the mattress bounced.

"If you're sick, make sure it's not on my bed." Tyler said, then hiccupped.

Harry stuck his tongue out at the older boy.

Tyler laughed. "Your head is going to kill tomorrow."

"Never." Harry slurred, "I am ind-indestruc'ble."

"Sure thing."

Harry moved closer to Tyler and rested his head on the older boy's chest, absently tracing his fingers lightly over his stomach, his dark fingers contrasting with the pale skin. "You're a good friend."

"Don't you know it."

Harry rolled over and groaned, clutching his head. He heard a quiet chuckle off to one side and peered at Tyler, who was flopped on the beanbag playing on a Gameboy.

"Paracetamol on the bedside table." He said, and Harry grabbed the tablets.

"Was' the time?" Harry mumbled, climbing out of bed.

Tyler glanced at his watch. "1124."

"Fuck me." Harry said, rubbing his face.

"I'm alright thanks." Tyler said, going back to his game. It took Harry a moment to work out what he meant, but when he did he scowled and threw his shoe at the older boy's head.

"Biff." He muttered, heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth and ignoring Tyler's laughter.

Harry couldn't believe how quickly the days passed.

The two boys played darts, rode the horses, made a complete mess of the kitchen when they tried to cook brownies, walked the dogs, drove the go-karts, watched movies, and Tyler taught Harry to swim and pick locks. They took a pair of slingshots down to the stables and spent two hours knocking tin cans of the fence and firing stones at clods of dirt they threw into the air for each other. Ming drove them into town to an outdoor paintball range that Harry found rather disappointing after the organised exercises they had at Coleshill, although, with their combined experience and marksmanship, Harry and Tyler were easily the best players.

They took the train into London and watched Tottenham play West Ham, and Tyler bought Harry a white Spurs football shirt and a scarf. They spent the rest of the day in the city by themselves, wandering around and taking funny photos in a booth in a shop, and spending a ridiculous amount of money on sweets. Harry thought that it had probably been the best day of his life.

Harry was exhausted every evening when they went to bed, but enjoyed every second of it, and it was a welcome relief to be able to go to bed without having to worry about being woken up in the middle of the night for PT, and the food was at least twelve times better, particularly when he didn't have to eat plain porridge for breakfast every morning.

All too soon, they were back in the black Mercedes and heading back to Coleshill. Harry was still chuckling at some of the more inventive ways Tyler was trying to sneak in snacks and plasters, including hollowing out the pages of a Latin dictionary and hiding cereal bars inside.

They pulled into the school drive as a few boys were walking up from running laps. Harry took his bag from Ming, who promptly got back into the car and drove off.

"We could just run away." Tyler said wistfully, looking back down the drive. They could just make out a car's headlights creeping up the drive. "I reckon we'd survive alright in the woods."

Harry shook his head. "No we couldn't, Norwood's seen us."

Doctor Norwood was striding towards them.

"Kubowa." Tyler snapped. He hoisted his backpack onto his back and headed up the steps to the reception. He grinned cheekily and winked at the receptionist as they entered. "Hiya Susan." He started walking past her desk, but was called back.

"Bag, Jefferson." The stern woman said, holding out her hand. Tyler reluctantly dropped his backpack on the desk in front of her. "You too Potter." Harry set his duffle bag down next to Tyler's as Mrs. Crompton rifled through it.

She pulled out a box of Malteasers that had been shoved inside a folded shirt. "Not very imaginative, boys." She dropped the box into a drawer in the desk and pushed Tyler's bag back towards him, turning to Harry's. She pulled a half-full Evian bottle out and raised her eyebrows at him.

"It's water." Harry said when she seemed to be expecting an answer.

"Then you won't mind if I take it off you." Mrs. Crompton replied coolly, throwing the bottle into the bin. "You both need to report to Brigadier O'Reilly this evening for your div for contraband." She handed Harry his bag as Major Norwood came in through the front door.

"You missed EM." He said, standing behind them as they walked through the metal detector next to Mrs. Crompton's desk.

"Yes sir." Tyler said, swinging his bag onto his shoulder. "We'll go then."

Tyler began walking down the corridor and Harry hurried after him, but Doctor Norwood followed behind them.

"I hope you managed to do the banco I set over your holiday." He said.

"What?" Harry frowned. "No."

"We must have missed the lesson you set it in." Tyler said, shooting Harry a glare. "Would it be possible for us to have an extension for that particular piece of work?"

Doctor Norwood seemed to think for a while, and Harry shifted as they walked. "I suppose I can give you until next Tuesday to complete the essay." He said finally. "But I want an extra two hundred and fifty words added to the original eight hundred."

"Yes sir." Tyler said.

Doctor Norwood walked with them all the way to their dorm.

"Cank." Tyler muttered once the door had swung shut.

Harry noticed that the sheets on the ceiling had been taken down and hastily shoved in the drawer under the bed, presumably as the result of a surprise room inspection over the holidays. He pulled the sheets out of the drawer and stood on the bed to put them back up as Tyler unpacked, hiding the contraband in various places.

Harry noticed a large pile of papers on his desk and went over to look at them, realising that they were the notes and exercises from tips he had missed. With a small sigh, he glanced at the timetable pinned to the wall between the two desks and slipped into his chair, grabbing a pencil and pulling the various maths sheets out of the pile.

After a few minutes, Tyler sat down opposite him and started working through his own pile of work.

Some time after Tyler's watch beeped on the hour, Javid and Turk burst in, laughing rowdily. They ignored Harry and Tyler and disappeared behind the sheets around their bed.

Harry and Tyler laboured through the work they had missed, occasionally asking each other a question or two to clarify a certain point, but otherwise working in silence.

Nat came into their room at 2115, and he, Javid and Turk began messing around and making too much noise to continue working. Harry reluctantly put away his pencil case, sighing at the large pile of unfinished work still sitting on the desk in front of him.

"I'm going to go say hi to Yates." He said, and Tyler nodded, still scribbling on a piece of banco paper.

"I'll come through in a sec."

Harry yawned and left the dorm, going into the room directly on his left with a large 'D' above it.

Glancing around, he saw that Blake was at his desk, presumably doing banco, and he could see the back of a ginger head lying on the bottom bunk of the bed on the right.

Oscar sat up as Harry entered the room. "What do you want?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing. Just came in to talk."

"When did you get back?"

"About 1900?" Harry shrugged. "Tyler's just finishing... physics, I think it was." He dropped onto the desk chair nearest the bed. "Did you know his middle name was Horatio?"

"What the trank?" Oscar snorted. "Horatio?"

"Yep." Harry laughed. "Anthony Tyler Horatio Jefferson."

"You biff!" Tyler complained, coming into the dorm. "I swore you to secrecy!"

"Oscar doesn't count." Harry said.

Tyler huffed as he sat on the bed next to Oscar. "I still don't get how you tell them apart."

Harry just shrugged. "I'm magic."

Oscar rolled his eyes.

"Where's Owen?" Tyler asked.

"Toilet. How was your ten days of freedom?"

"It was awesome!" Harry replied.

"Did you go on the go Karts?"

"They're so cool!" Harry exclaimed. "And the pool. Tyler taught me to swim."

Oscar scoffed. "You couldn't swim?"

"No." Harry replied coolly.

Tyler put his hands behind his head. "So, what did you guys do?"

Oscar pursed his lips. "I really want to punch you in your perfect teeth."

Tyler laughed. "What the trank?"

"Guess how many times we had PT." Owen said, sitting on the desk next to the bed.

"Twice?" Tyler said slowly.

Oscar laughed. "We had that trank four times over the holiday."

"Four?" Tyler laughed. "Oh, that's _rough_."

"On Christmas day as well." Owen said. "I mean what a Christmas present: Getting up at 0310 to lift weights and play dodgeball."

"At least it was inside." Tyler shrugged, then blocked Oscar's punches with a laugh.

"Biff." Oscar muttered.

"I still can't believe you guys got ten days." Blake said from across the room. He seemed to have given up on banco. "Nat didn't get anything, he was furious."

Tyler peered at his fingernails. "What can I say?"

"That you'll take me with you next time." Blake replied, half-serious. Harry laughed.

"Stiffs not too bad though?" Tyler asked, and Oscar shrugged.

"Other than the chapel service on the 25th it was the same same as normal; nobody even mentioned it was meant to be a holiday."

Blake shook his head. "Gibson and Norwood got absolutely smashed Christmas eve." He grinned.

"You what?" Owen gasped. "How'd you know?"

"I saw them staggering in just before Lock Up." Blake explained. "I was coming back from the library and they were walking up towards their room to 'continue the celebrations', I think they said."

Oscar pulled a face. "Way too much information!"

"Gross!" Harry laughed.

"Norwood and Gibson?"

Blake seemed to be enjoying their reactions. "Yeah. I guess now we know why Gibson spent that entire day standing up last term."

"What the trank?"

"No! Jesus Christ."

"That's a mental picture I did _not_ need."

Tyler threw a pillow at Blake's laughing face.

Blake caught the pillow with a thoughtful expression. "Do you remember last week when I said I went to ask Norwood about that essay, and he was-"

"Jesus Christ man, shut up!" Oscar cried, covering his ears.

"I'm out of here." Tyler said.

At that moment the door opened and Nathaniel walked in, catching his comment. "Good riddance." He said, and Tyler scowled at him.

"Come on Harry."

Jones smirked. "Oh yeah, take your pet."

Tyler rolled his eyes and walked into Nat as he passed. The blond's eyes flashed with anger but he didn't make a move towards the taller boy.

One of the corps was stood in the doorway when Harry returned from brushing his teeth, and he hurried into his bed as the older boy scowled at him. Without a word the corp flicked the lights off, plunging the room into total darkness.

Something touched his hand and he lashed out, hitting someone's face, but then the hands were on his shoulders, a forehead pressed to his own.

"Hey, breathe. Breathe. You're alright." Tyler whispered as his hands moved to Harry's face. "It's ok. You need to breathe. In, out, in. That's it. Deep breaths. I've got you. Breathe. You don't want to have a panic attack first night back."

Harry felt his breathing go back to normal, but Tyler didn't move away.

Harry gripped his wrist. "Stay?"

"Course." Tyler replied, laying down on the bed without moving his hands away. "Always."


	9. Chapter 9

Over the next week, Harry though tensions seemed a little high.

Perhaps it was simply the aftereffects of a small portion of the student population having been away on holiday, but there was definitely something different about the atmosphere around Coleshill.

Nathaniel and Javid seemed to be stoking the feeling, and seemed to have most of the corps on their side. Harry didn't know what the side was for, but he knew he was on the opposite.

After a later lunch on Sundays, they had two hours of pop, in which they were mostly left to do what they wanted, unless they had a scheduled marksmanship session or a school-wide paintball exercise. Boys that weren't gated or on Library duty often caught up with work in their dorms, but many people congregated outside the Duvalier or on the Almanac above the pitches.

Harry, Tyler, Owen and Oscar had managed to grab two benches on the Almanac and push them together. They were dressed in civs, facing each other in the sun and talking, sharing around a packet of Tyler's skittles whilst keeping a wary eye out for any stiffs or corps.

A shadow fell over the group and conversation faltered as they turned to look at Nat, flanked by Javid and Turk. A few corps were scattered around the Almanac.

"Can we help you?" Oscar asked.

Jones smirked. "Well, we'd love to have some of those skittles you've got there, wouldn't we boys?"

Oakley grinned nastily.

"Well, that's unfortunate." Tyler said, and turned back to Oscar to continue their conversation. "I mean, it's sort of like that, isn't it?"

Jones' face had contorted with rage, and he snatched the bag of skittles out of Harry's hand.

"Hey!" Harry cried, standing up to face him.

"Naw, the baby's trying to look hard." Nat cooed, holding the bag of sweets out for Javid and Turk to take some.

"Give them back." Harry retorted.

"There's plenty to share." Bhandi replied.

Oakley tossed a sweet up and caught it in his mouth. "It's only fair, we all ate the same trank at lunch."

"Then get your own food." Owen snapped, making a grab for the bag. Nat easily moved it out of his reach.

"Boys, boys, they're only skittles." Nat laughed, and anger coiled in Harry's stomach.

"Then you won't mind giving them back." Tyler said coldly.

Jones pulled a face. "No. That's not how it works."

Oscar had stood up next to Harry. "Give us back the skittles, Nat. Before one of the stiffs sees."

Nathaniel raised his eyebrows and dropped a few of the sweets into his mouth, tipping his head back.

Harry curled his hand into a fist and punched Nat in the throat, causing him to double up and choke on the skittles.

"Haha!" Oscar crowed. "Nice shot!"

Harry grinned, and then he saw Javid and Turk advancing angrily on him. Getting into a fight with benches on either side of him wasn't exactly a great idea, and Harry quickly backed away from the two older boys as he and his friends manoeuvred out of the way, Owen jumping over the back of the wooden seat.

Javid and Turk dropped into fighting stances, and Tyler and the twins followed suit, glaring at them as they prepared to attack.

By this time, Nathaniel had straightened, face pink and blue-streaked hair in disarray. He threw the half-empty bag of skittles to the ground, sending the coloured balls in all directions.

"I'm going to kill you Potter." He hissed.

Harry swallowed but raised his arms into a defensive position. Nat forced him away from the benches with a series of well-practiced kicks and jabs, moving him away from the help of his friends.

With a malicious smirk, Jones pulled a flick-knife out of his hoody pocket. The blade glinted in the sun. Harry could hear Owen, Oscar and Tyler grunting as they exchanged blows with Javid and Turk, but was soon distracted when Nat lunged with the knife, swinging towards his face.

With a yelp, Harry dodged backwards, then aimed a roundhouse kick at Nat, pivoting on his left foot. Nat knocked his leg away and retaliated with a series of punches aimed at Harry's torso, the knife clutched in his right hand.

Harry blocked the blows, then ducked a swipe at his head with the knife. Nathaniel kicked out, forcing Harry to roll away to the side. He quickly got to his feet and blocked another jab at his ribs with the knife, looking around desperately for some kind of help.

His friends were busy with Javid and Turk, and none of the corps seemed to have noticed what was happening. Either that, or they were deliberately not intervening.

Seeing an opening, Harry feinted left, then aimed a punch at Nat's face, but the fist was knocked away, and Nat's next hit connected with Harry's stomach. He managed to knock the knife out of Nat's hand as he doubled over in pain, but couldn't block the knee that came up towards his face.

Pain exploded from his nose, and Harry fell sideways as Jones rushed to pick up the blade. Harry rolled out of the way as Nat slashed down with the knife, then struggled to his feet in time to deflect a fist away from his head.

Eyes watering, Harry swung his arm up at Nat's face. The older boy stumbled backwards, one hand going to his cheek, and Harry used the opportunity to launch a kick at his unprotected stomach, his shark-tooth necklace flicking up and hitting him in the lip.

Nathaniel snarled, and aimed a series of blows at Harry's head and torso. Harry managed to dodge or deflect the majority of them, but didn't move in time to avoid the boot that swung towards his thigh.

The blow caused his leg to buckle, and Harry dropped to one knee, and with an ugly smile, Nat swung the knife down towards his face. Harry caught the strike on his left arm and felt a terrible stinging where it had landed.

Harry rolled away and jumped to his feet, barely dodging the next series of kicks and punches that flew at him.

He caught Nat's hand as he aimed the blade at his chest, and twisted the older boy's thumb, causing him to yell and drop the knife. Harry kicked it away, then punched him hard in the stomach.

Nat bent double, and Tyler appeared behind him and twisted his arm up behind his back in a painful lock, just as Fu and the other corps rushed over and began pulling them away from each other.

Harry bitterly wondered where this help had been when Nat was trying to stab him as he cradled his arm. He shook Fu's hand off his shoulder, but the older boy just grabbed his arm and pulled it into a lock, forcing him to bend forwards or break his arm.

"What the trank was all that?" One of the corps was saying. "You lot are going to follow me up to the Brigadier's office before he comes down himself."

Harry cradled his left arm, and reluctantly followed the corp up towards the school.

He noticed that Javid seemed to be limping rather a lot, and blood was flowing from Turk's nose.

"Thanks." Harry muttered to Tyler, who already had a bruise forming on his jaw.

"Don't worry about it."

The seven of them were escorted across the Almanac and into the main building by three corps, and they stopped outside Brigadier O'Reilly's office. Fu stepped forwards and they all stood to attention as he knocked smartly on the wooden door, and after a few seconds it opened, revealing the stern man.

"Yes?"

"Sir, we have just had to break up a fight between these privates." Fu said.

"At ease, corporals. Lance-corporal." Brigadier O'Reilly said, and the three boys moved to stand with his hands behind his back. He turned to the others. "You lot, in." Harry followed Owen as the six of them filed in. "Dismissed, corporals." Brigadier O'Reilly said, then closed the door.

The seven boys were stood to attention in front of the Brigadier's desk, and he slowly made his way into the chair behind it. He peered at Nathaniel. "Explain."

Harry's stomach dropped, but Nathaniel's answer was not what he was expecting.

"Sir, my actions were inexcusable and I accept any punishment you see fit, sir."

Brigadier O'Reilly Turned to Javid, who repeated exactly he same thing, as did Turk, Oscar and Tyler. Harry kept his eyes fixed on a point on the wall as Brigadier O'Reilly faced him.

"Do you have anything to say, Private Potter?"

"Sir, my actions were inexcusable and I accept any punishment you see as fitting, sir." Harry said.

Owen repeated the same, and Brigadier O'Reilly watched them all for a moment.

"I have no desire to find out what caused this childish squabble, but you obviously have too much energy if you are spending your Sunday afternoons fighting." Nobody spoke. "As such, you will all run 500 laps of the athletics track over the next three weeks. You will report to the library for any pops you have for as long as it takes you to run these laps. For your blatant disregard for Coleshill bills, I am assigning you each a div of 15 hits."

Brigadier O'Reilly opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a cane slightly longer and thicker than the ones the teachers had in their classrooms. He came and stood behind them, and made his way down the line of boys. The only noise was the swish of the rod and the 'thunk' it made hitting each boy's clothed backside.

Harry bit his tongue to keep from crying out at his turn, not moving from his position.

Brigadier O'Reilly slowly made his way back around his desk, carefully placing the cane back in the desk drawer before looking back up at them.

"I shall also expect you to report to the head cleaner every day after banco for the next two weeks as part of your punishment. I am sure that working together whilst cleaning will eradicate any enmity between you."

Harry thought that it was more likely that Jones would suddenly start singing opera right then and there, but he held his tongue and continued staring straight ahead.

"Colonel Hatcher will get to the bottom of this silly fight and implement any further punishments." Brigadier O'Reilly said. "Now get out of my office. You are dismissed. If you need medical attention you are to report to Nurse Sparrow in the Sani." Brigadier O'Reilly eyed Owen's split lip and the gash on Harry's chin.

Almost as one, the seven boys turned on their heels and walked single file to the door. They hurried out, and Harry tried not to run down the corridor away from the office.

Nathaniel glared at Harry as they walked in silence, one hand on his stomach.

They went back to their dorms, as nobody wanted to go back to the scene of the crime, when they reached the corridor Javid and Turk went into D-dorm with Nat. With a shrug and a glare at their retreating backs, Owen and Oscar followed Harry and Tyler into C-dorm.

"I'm surprised there wasn't a riot." Tyler said, dropping onto Harry's bunk.

Owen nodded.

"It was mostly the corps on the Almanac." Oscar said. "I guess they didn't want to get involved."

"McKinnley and Kafoa looked like they were coming over." Owen said. "Although I'm not sure who's side they would have been on. They ran off when they saw the corps were breaking it up."

Harry pulled his jumper off and inspected the gash on his arm.

"Kubowa man, he got you?" Owen asked, looking at Harry's blood soaked sleeve.

"Mmm." Harry nodded. "I'm going to go wash off the blood."

When he came back in from the bathroom Tyler had pulled a bandage out from under the bed.

"Why the hell do you have half of this stuff?" Owen asked, peering into a tin full of creams and plasters.

Tyler held his hand out for Harry's arm. "Because trank like this always happens, and I'd rather not bleed out each time."

Harry snorted as Tyler inspected his arm. "Tyler, I don't think it's quite that drastic."

"I'm just surprised he waited a week." Oscar said, obviously continuing on from a conversation they had been having whilst Harry was in the bathroom.

Tyler shrugged. "Someone almost always brings in some sort of knife after Christmas. Even the stiffs know, so he was probably waiting for them to let down their guard a bit after the holiday."

Owen scoffed. "Yeah, because a week'll do it."

"I never said he was smart." Tyler said, rolling his eyes. "Chuck us some butterfly stiches."

Owen tossed Tyler a small packet from the tin in his hands, and Tyler gently tilted and manipulated Harry's arm to stick the stitches over the gash.

"Who d'you think gave it to him?" Oscar asked. "I mean, he didn't get any layoff, so someone must have brought it in."

"One of the corps." Harry said as Tyler tightly wrapped the bandage around his forearm. "The way they were all just standing around and didn't do anything."

"Maybe." Tyler murmured. "I want to know if Chalky managed to sneak in those slingshots he promised. We can go hunting again one night."

Owen grinned. "That was sick last time."

"Hunting?" Harry enquired.

"Sometimes Chalky manages to get in slingshots or throwing knives." Oscar explained.

"Who the trank is chalky?" Harry laughed. "Bruce?"

"Kevin White." Tyler said, shaking his head. "But everyone calls him Chalky. Surely you've seen him around?"

Harry shrugged. "I've heard the name, but I don't actually know who he is. Besides, I thought people called Bruce Snow 'Chalky'?"

"They do." Oscar said. "It's 'cos his name's snow. And White. Like chalk." He rolled his eyes. "Forget it."

"Anyway, Chalky lets us borrow them and we sneak out at night and hunt squirrels." Owen said.

"That sounds awesome." Harry grinned.

"Yeah. But Chalky needs to actually give them to us." Tyler said.

Oscar shrugged. "We could just swim in the lake."

Tyler rolled his eyes. "It's _January._"

Owen looked thoughtful. "You know, I think we've got an extended PT coming up. Like, a three-day or something."

Tyler raised his eyebrows. "Yeah?" He shrugged. "I guess it makes sense. Our last one was what, August?"

Oscar nodded. "Yeah. It was during that massive heatwave, and Andrews fainted."

"It would be great to have the slingshots for that." Tyler said. "Then we wouldn't have to survive on canky rat packs."

"What's this?" Harry asked, feeling slightly confused.

"You remember that PT we had where we had to make it back to school before breakfast?" Tyler said, and Harry nodded. "It's like that, but we usually have between three and eight days where we have to basically survive."

"What, we just get dropped?"

Oscar shook his head. "No you idiot, we're given standard kit: ration packs, basher, canteen, medkit, all that, but the stiffs bugger off and come back at the end of the ex."

"That actually sounds pretty cool." Harry said.

Owen shrugged. "I'm fairly certain we've got one coming up."

"Whole school?" Tyler asked.

Owen shook his head. "Alpha Bravo."

"Nice." Tyler nodded. He glanced at his watch and sighed. "I've got to go to my music lesson."

"Enjoy." Harry said as Tyler grabbed his drumsticks.

Oscar stood up. "We should probably go too."

Harry reluctantly stood up and followed the twins out of the dorm.

Every Sunday after their two hour pop, the boys had an elective activity until supper. The options ranged from chess club to extra sport to gardening, and were mixed ages and squads.

Tyler had his drum lesson every week, and Blake went to the library to study, so Harry had joined Rex and two other boys learning Malayalam. Whilst Harry thought that his dorm mate was sanctimonious and short-tempered, he was the only other boy in the squad near Harry's age, and so he had easily befriended him.

Major Kelly, the Latin teacher, taught the Dravidian language in his classroom down the languages corridor. Unlike some teachers, he let them wear civs during the hour and a half, and sometimes brought in juice or biscuits.

The two other boys learning Malayalam were brothers from Japan, and had received more than one div during the lessons for talking amongst themselves in their mother tongue, although Major Kelly seemed to prefer giving out laps or tardies than the corporal punishment, despite having two div canes in his drawer, one of them rather thicker than normal. The two seemed to absorb languages like a sponge, as Malayalam was their sixth language, and they could hold a decent conversation with their teacher.

With only the Japanese boys to compare his progress to, Harry didn't know how fast he was learning. Major Kelly said that he was surprised at how easily he seemed to pick up the language, but Harry still thought that he was too far behind, especially after missing the first two months of the course.


	10. Chapter 10

In the aftermath of the fight on the Almanac, Colonel Hatcher had found both the flick knife and the bag of skittles, and all seven boys had been given divs for having 'contraband'. Nobody would confess to owning the knife, and Harry wasn't stupid enough to snitch on Jones, and so they had all been given tree weeks of Library duty after their cleaning punishment was over, and had been gated for two weeks after that, and so January passed in a rush of schoolwork, punishment laps and biting winds that cut into them as they played football.

Coleshill was almost completely cut off from the outside world, so Harry didn't even notice as Valentine's day drew closer and closer. At St. Grogory's, the students made cards and poems and friendship bracelets and wrote romantic stories in the week leading up to the holiday, but none of the stiffs even mentioned it. Harry only realised the significance of the date when the amount of teasing in the corridors between certain boys grew to such an extent that Salim Randip threw a chair across the room in maths and had to be restrained by Lieutenant Colonel Pearson as he struggled to punch the boy that had been asking if he would be giving his boyfriend a valentine's shag that evening.

Harry also found he and Tyler were on the receiving end of a lot of the teasing, which both baffled and mortified him. Tyler was his best friend – his only friend really – they weren't _dating _or anything. However, Tyler's awkward flushing and his own stuttered responses to the ribbing only egged on the other boys further, and by the end of the day Harry was quite relieved to hide behind the closed curtains in the dorm, despite the jibes about what they were doing back there.

Despite the gating, Tyler, Harry and the Yates twins had snuck out of their dorm one night in February and run down to the football fields. They had spent an hour messing around, then taken Chalky's slingshots, and Tyler had taught Harry how to shoot straight at a bird in a tree. They had lit a small fire at the edge of the forest as far away from the school building as they could, and feasted on owl and bats in the dark before creeping back into their rooms. There had been one hairy moment on the way back when they had heard Colonel Hatcher and Lieutenant Atkinson coming down the hallway towards them, and had been forced to rush back around the corner to avoid them, but the pair of stiffs seemed more interested in each other than the quiet scuff of Harry's boot as he ran away.

Harry was startled to find at the start of March that the clothes he had arrived in were getting close to fitting him, and realised that in the 3 months he had been at Coleshill he had grown over an inch, and had put on more than that in muscle. He was sent down to Captain Adcock to have his hair cut at least once a month, but it ended up being rather useful as it meant he could pick up larger uniform as he grew out of his.

Harry was relieved when March arrived, as it meant his punishment was finally over, and he would have the occasional bout of free time to spend with Tyler and the twins. With March came torrential rain and hailstorms. They usually only lasted a few minutes, but were enough to cause small rivers to flow on either side of the path to the Duvalier, and the library roof developed a leak that any boys unfortunate enough to be on cleaning duty had to clear up every evening.

After the fight on the Almanac, Jones had avoided Harry, particularly when he proved that he could more than handle himself when he threw Blake to the floor in combat, despite being 6 years younger and over a foot shorter than the studious boy.

His lessons were still a challenge, but he found he enjoyed school much more when he wasn't trying to do worse than Dudley. In fact, he had been moved up a set in maths, and a few of his teachers had commented that he might be up to taking a GCSE in the next few years. Despite this, there were still stiffs that seemed determined to give him tardies and laps in every tip for late work, and Lieutenant Colonel Tate and Major Gibson had both made him repeat assignments because they couldn't read his handwriting.

The second week in March, they had their second extended PT course, where they were driven in a minibus for over two hours and dropped in twos and threes at the edge of the road.

In their military skills and tactics lessons the week before, they had all been given maps of the surrounding area and told to come up with a plan, and Harry and Tyler managed to meet up with Owen, Oscar and Blake. The five of them spent the next four days avoiding the stiffs that were out looking for them, catching rabbits for food and sleeping under a large tarpaulin they pegged down with sticks each night.

They were picked up from an abandoned barn with the rest of Alpha and Bravo squads and driven back to Coleshill exactly 96 hours after they had been dropped, and Harry realised that the exercise had been the most fun he had had at Coleshill. They spent the bus ride back laughing at the misfortune of the three boys who hadn't managed to make the rendezvous point in time, and would have to walk the 23 kilometres back to campus.

It also brought him closer to Tyler, and Harry spent all of his free time with the older boy, playing football or just talking and listening to music, as well as sitting next to him in all of their lessons and at each meal. This sometimes meant that he was subjected to conversations between the other teenage boys that he wasn't sure he really wanted to listen to, yet alone be part of, and Oscar teased him mercilessly whenever he awkwardly left the room when they started watching particular movies on Tyler's iPod.


	11. Chapter 11

"And so Baz asked him exactly what he meant by that, and I swear puddles nearly wet himself again." Harry said. Tyler nodded and rolled off the bed. "Where you going?"

"Jesus Christ, to the toilet." Tyler said.

"Oh right." Harry nodded, standing up.

Tyler frowned. "Where are you going?"

"I may as well brush my teeth." Harry shrugged.

"Kubowa Harry, you don't need to go everywhere with me!" Tyler cried.

"What?" Harry frowned. "Ty, I need a piss, and I may as well go now if you're leaving."

"But you weren't about to go four seconds ago. It's only because I got up!" Tyler said.

"We were talking!"

"No, _we _weren't talking, _you_ were!" Tyler said, jabbing Harry in the chest with a finger. "I really couldn't give less of a shit about the petty drama between Obegu Bandagi and Regis canking Forsyth."

Harry stepped backwards slightly, wounded. "I was just telling you-"

"That's all you ever do; talk and fidget and follow me around like a bloody lost puppy! Do you _have_ any friends besides me?"

Harry opened his mouth indignantly.

"I didn't think so." Tyler continued. "And you know what, I'm not canky surprised!"

"What do you mean?"

Tyler rolled his eyes and pretended to look thoughtful. "Let me think. You constantly leave your trank everywhere, which gets me in trouble with stiffs and corps for being messy, and then you lose it and expect me to know where it is. You practically stalk me, and expect to know where I am and what I'm doing all the time."

"That's bollocks!"

"You ask me for all the answers in tips, and again during banco, and even copy my canky work when you can't be bothered to do it yourself." Tyler continued, talking louder to be heard over Harry's protests. He had started ticking things off on his fingers.

"That's not-" Harry began, but Tyler cut him off again.

"You constantly fidget like a goddamn _toddler_, or jabber in my ear when I'm trying to relax. You're always in my personal space or trying to follow me everywhere!" He shoved Harry backwards a step to prove his point.

"Like when?" Harry cried.

"Like two minutes ago!" Tyler shouted, gesturing wildly with his hands. "You're-"

"You were going to the _bathroom_." Harry said. "I'm not exactly invading your personal space."

Tyler snarled in frustration. "It's not just then, it's always! I can't have a fucking moment of peace without you _bounding_ over and trying to talk or play or ma-"

"That's because you're my _friend_." Harry said.

"Exactly!" Tyler cried, curling his hands into fists. "I'm your friend, not your canky mother! I don't want to spend all of my time with you. You're annoying! It's no wonder your parents went and offed themselves, I'm fairly close to doing it myself you're so bloody clingy!"

"You take that back!" Harry cried angrily, taking a step closer to the older boy and jabbing him in the chest. His throat felt uncomfortably tight.

Tyler scoffed meanly and raised an eyebrow. "Try it, midget. I will happily beat your canky face in if it gives me a few moments of bloody peace. Go join your pitiful parents."

"You're an absolute prick." Harry snarled. "Take that the fuck _back_."

Tyler raised his fist and punched Harry in the face. He fell down on his bed, bringing a hand up to his cheek.

With a victorious gleam in his eye, Tyler turned on his heel and stormed into the bathroom, leaving the sheets hanging wide open. Harry caught a glimpse of Javid's gleeful face before he ducked behind his own hanging sheets.

Harry numbly changed into his pyjamas, then went into the bathroom. He frowned when Tyler wasn't in the bathroom, and followed Blake through the second door into D-dorm once he had brushed his teeth, dropping his toothbrush back into the large plastic cup on the sink.

He caught sight of Tyler's straight brown hair on Oscar's bed, and opened his mouth to say something when he realised that Tyler was talking about him.

"-just so _desperate_. Doesn't he get that sometimes I need some time to myself without him jumping around me. He's so needy!"

Owen shrugged. "He's a little kid. He just needs to grow up."

"I've said it before that Potter's clingy." Oscar said, sitting leaning against the wall eating a cereal bar. "And it's kind of ridiculous the amount of work he copies off you."

"And he's so distracting in tips!" Tyler continued, gesturing with his hands. "He's constantly asking questions or moving around."

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and quickly slipped back into the bathroom. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sinks and saw a faint purple bruise already beginning to blossom on his cheekbone.

He felt a pricking behind his eyes as he thought about what Tyler had said and climbed into bed, leaving the sheets hanging open and pretending not to hear Turk's sniggers. Harry lay on his side and stared at the wall, absently picking at the paint as tears rolled down his face and into his hair.

The lights were flicked off before Tyler came back into the dorm, and Harry waited for him to return, determined to at least say that the shot about his parents was a low blow, even if he didn't get to fully defend himself. He peered into the darkness, feeling his breath getting shorter, and tried to force himself to breathe the way Tyler told him to whenever he had a panic attack.

"Potter, shut up." Oakley moaned.

"Just because you've had an argument with your boyfriend doesn't mean you get to keep the rest of us up." Bhandi snapped.

"Shack off." Harry retorted, but it came out more pathetic than angry.

When the bell rang in the morning, Harry thought that he had probably gotten less than three hours' sleep. He forced himself out of bed and into his sports kit, and didn't even see Tyler during the morning run. He carried his tray of porridge over to their usual table and watched the doorway of the dining hall, and smiled hopefully when Tyler walked in with the twins. Harry's face fell when they all ignored him, and his stomach twisted when Tyler walked right past where he was sitting without looking at him and headed for a table across the room where five boys Harry only knew by sight were sitting. Owen and Oscar both scanned the room quickly when they had their breakfasts, then went and sat on either side of Tyler.

Feeling slightly abandoned, Harry picked up his tray and followed after them, only realising when he was stood next to the table that with the five boys from F-dorm, the table was completely full, and there was no way he would be able to sit with them.

"Yeah?" Oscar asked.

Harry opened his mouth stupidly then shut it again.

"Did you want something, Niglet?" One of the boys asked.

Harry opened his mouth again. "I... no."

"Then shack off." The boy said.

Harry glanced at Tyler, who rolled his eyes and continued to eat his porridge, then turned around and dumped his tray on the trolley, ignoring the jeers and sniggers that followed after him.

Over the next week, Harry only ever saw Tyler briefly between tips. Nat had told him that Tyler was sleeping on the empty bottom bunk of Blake's bed, and in tips where the stiffs didn't have set seats, Tyler would make sure to sit as far away from Harry as he could. When they were forced to sit next to each other, he would spread his books out as much as possible, and didn't speak to Harry, other than to tell him to stop looking at his answers.

At lunch, Harry found himself forced to the back of the column as they lined up outside, and was left to find a table to sit at by himself.

The bruise on his cheek had spread to his eye, making him look oddly like a black panda for the rest of the week, a small cut on his cheekbone where his glasses had cut into the skin. Very quickly, Harry's desolation turned into anger and bitterness at the unfairness of Tyler complaining to his friends about Harry's attention span – something he couldn't even control. Despite this, Harry found himself unbelievably lonely, doing his banco in the library to avoid Rex's sympathetic looks and Javid's jeers, and throwing himself into football training as an outlet for his irritation, or spending hours on drawings he ended up throwing in the bin.

It came as a slight shock to him when he realised quite how much he relied on Tyler. Over nine days, Harry was given three divs, two tardies and 25 punishment laps for late, incomplete, or downright incorrect work and banco, as well as a Sunday detention from two separate stiffs. Without Tyler to explain things or use as a sounding board Harry found his marks slipping, which in turn just made him more irritated, meaning he didn't concentrate on his work... It was a vicious cycle he wasn't sure how to get out of. He also hadn't known how much Tyler did for him that he didn't know about: Boys knocked his books out of his hands as he walked between tips, and tried to trip him up in the dining room, or snapped racist slurs at him. It was nothing big or particularly nasty – he had seen that the bullying around Coleshill could be far worse than that – but it was enough to make him realise that Tyler _was_ his only friend. He had shouted at Javid not to touch his stuff and had promptly had the absolute shit beaten out of him.

On Friday morning, they had PT at 0430, and Harry found himself paired with Tyler in combat. They didn't speak, and Harry hurled everything he had at the older boy, hardly pulling his punches as they sparred.

"Jesus C_hrist _Potter, cool it." Tyler said during a short break, panting and rubbing his thigh where Harry had kicked him.

Harry shook his head. "Piss off." He absently noted that this was the longest conversation he had had with Tyler in over a week.

"You're acting canky crazy." Tyler said.

Harry felt his anger rise. "I'm acting crazy? Tyler, you've been a complete _cank _all week." He hissed.

"Stop bloody moping, Potter!"

"I'm not moping!" Harry snapped, breathing hard. "I'm not sad, I'm pissed off! You told me you weren't fucking surprised my parents _killed themselves_. You called them pathetic!"

Tyler rolled his eyes and straightened. "Now you're just making things up."

"End break." Mr. Smoke shouted from further down the line of boys. "Spar."

"Your exact words were 'its no wonder your parents went and offed themselves'." Harry said, launching a roundhouse kick at Tyler's ribs. "That was just before you punched me in the face!" He fired a series of blows at Tyler's head to emphasise his point, then danced back, his hands up.

They exchanged blows for a few minutes as Mr. Little walked behind them before Tyler answered. "I just said that I have a life besides you! And that you need to stop being so bloody needy."

"How is sitting next to you in lessons needy?" Harry asked, dodging a feint to the left and blocking Tyler's right hand as it came hurtling towards his chest.

Tyler snarled in frustration. "For trank's sake, we've had this conversation! It's not-"

"No, Tyler, we haven't had any conversations! You've been blanking me all week." Harry bounced on his toes, waiting for Tyler to attack. "You've been completely avoiding me."

"Maybe because I want some canky peace!" Tyler snapped, breathing hard.

"If I was really that annoying then why haven't you said anything in the last 5 fucking months?" Harry hissed.

"Language, Potter!" Mr. Smoke shouted. "This isn't a social gathering; stop chatting. 10 laps by Monday morning."

"Yes sir." Harry said, gritting his teeth.

Tyler didn't answer his question, but also didn't make fun of him for the laps like the other boys around him.

Harry shot a kick at his leg, followed quickly by an elbow aimed at his face. "You could have just said 'hey, I don't really want to talk tonight' or, 'I'm going to sit next to Jace today'." He ducked under a strike and stepped back, catching his breath as Tyler watched him for any indication he was going to attack. "You didn't need to punch me in the face and tell me it's my fault my parents are dead!" His voice cracked on the last word and he knocked Tyler's arm away as he sent a sloppy strike towards his chest.

Harry took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry I'm messy, and that I copy your work. And I'm sorry if you feel like I'm constantly invading your privacy." He raised his arms to block a swipe at his face. "But you're the first friend I've had. Ever. And you... mean a lot to me."

Suddenly Tyler looped his foot behind Harry's ankle, and they both ended up on the floor, Harry pinned beneath the older boy. He couldn't see Tyler's face in the dark, but he could feel his warm breath on his chin as he panted.

Tyler rolled off him furiously, just as Mr. Little blew a whistle, and the fighting boys all broke apart and started running around the large pond. Harry lost Tyler in the crowd, and didn't bother looking for him, focusing instead on his breathing and not losing his footing in on the slippy grass.


	12. Chapter 12

12.

Harry woke up one morning, and was shocked to realise that he had been at military school for exactly 6 months. The day also happened to be Tyler's 15th birthday.

Harry rolled over and faced the older boy when the bell woke them up, their faces only a few inches apart.

"Happy Birthday Ty." He mumbled, and Tyler grinned.

"Thanks."

They spent the Sunday afternoon outside the Duvalier, eating chocolate bars in the stead of birthday cake, and handing Tyler presents 'wrapped' in coloured card stolen from the art department. Harry had planned on getting him a proper gift over the Easter holidays, but the two of them had been denied the layoff, something Nathaniel Jones had been only too happy to rub in their faces when he went home for 6 days.

The friendly atmosphere was ruined when Major Gibson walked out of the Duvalier and headed towards them.

"Kubowa." Tyler cursed, shoving the sweet wrappers into his pockets as they got to their feet.

"What are you five doing?" Major Gibson demanded, storming over to them.

"Just spending our pop outside, sir." Owen replied.

Major Gibson peered at them all. "Potter!" He barked.

"Yes sir?" Harry replied, trying to work out if he'd done anything wrong.

"What's that?" Major Gibson asked, jabbing a finger at Harry's breastbone.

Harry looked down, and saw his shark-tooth necklace poking out from under his T-shirt.

"That is against the uniform regulations." Major Gibson said. He held out a hand. "Take it off."

"Respectfully sir, I'm in civs." Harry replied. "I'm allowed to wear it if I'm not in uniform." He didn't mention that he hadn't taken it off since he got it for Christmas. Tyler had seemed oddly pleased about that fact when he found out a few weeks ago.

"Oh you are, are you?" Major Gibson glared. "Are you arguing with me boy?" He stepped forwards threateningly, now standing very close to Harry so he had to crane his neck to look up at his face.

"No sir."

Major Gibson jabbed him in the chest with a finger. "Then take it off!"

Harry frowned.

"Major, you have no grounds to tell him to take it off." Tyler said. "He's not breaking any bills if he's in civs."

"As an officer at this establishment, I have every grounds to give private Potter an order. Just because he's a poor little orphan doesn't mean the rules are lenient for him." Major Gibson screamed. "You, however, have no grounds to tell me what I can do. Do not answer back." The man swung his arm, and backhanded Tyler hard across his face.

Harry's stomach coiled in anger and he glared at the major.

"Now, if Private Potter doesn't hand over his necklace, I will be forced to take it off him, and have him running punishment laps until he leaves this school."

"Yes sir." Harry reached around his neck to undo the clasp, eyes narrowed in anger. They widened in surprise when Major Gibson's hair suddenly turned electric blue.

"What are you looking at?" Major Gibson snapped, taking in their shocked faces. "What is it?"

"Your-your hair." Blake said finally.

"What about it?"

"Its blue!" Oscar exclaimed.

"What?" Major Gibson reached up to his head, and yanked on a piece of hair to bring it in front of his eyes. His hair slipped slightly, and his eyes widened as he looked at it. "My wig!" He whispered. "What have you done to it?"

Without waiting for a reply, he ran off into the school, arms over his head, presumably going to the aerie.

"What the trank?" Tyler said, staring after the major.

Oscar blinked. "Do we... go?"

"Yeah." Owen nodded.

"Good plan." Blake said.

The boys sprinted away and ran to the Almanac, where they were hidden amongst the crowd of pupils.

They stopped and sat on the low ha ha wall.

"Tell me I didn't just imagine that." Tyler said. Oscar shook his head, looking stunned.

"What the trank just happened?" Blake asked.

Owen shook his head and sat on the ground facing the wall. "I have no idea."

"No, seriously, what the trank was that!" Blake cried, jumping up and beginning to pace in front of them "His hair was blue!"

Oscar looked as confused as Harry felt. "It's impossible."

"Yeah, but it happened." Tyler replied.

"What the trank."

Blake ran a hand through his hair. "How the trank did his hair change colour? It was brown, and then it was blue!" He blurted.

"We were all there." Tyler snapped.

"How the trank did it happen?" Owen asked.

Harry shook his head helplessly. "I don't know."

"It's impossible." Oscar repeated.

"Will you stop pacing?" Tyler snapped at Blake.

The dark-skinned teenager rounded on him. "Well I'm sorry for freaking out a little when the stiff's wig just turned blue in front of my canky eyes."

"We're all confused, just quit it!"

Blake looked unhappy but stopped pacing across the grass. "What the trank happened?"

"How are we supposed to know?" Tyler said, exasperated, then he grinned. "Hell of a birthday present though."

Harry laughed and shook his head, and Blake snorted.

"It's sort of like Hopper." Owen said thoughtfully after a moment.

Tyler frowned. "You what?"

"You remember like two years ago, that kid... Freddie Hopper. He was ten, like Harry. Actually I think he started here when he was nine, the unlucky bastard."

Oscar's eyes widened. "Kubowa, I forgot about that."

Blake nodded. "It's the same thing: nobody having an explanation for something freaky that happened."

Harry's stomach twisted at the word 'freaky'. "What happened?" He asked.

Owen shifted on the grass. "Apparently, Hopper was being beaten up outside the sports hall by three older students, and he like, pushed them backwards."

"Without touching them." Oscar added.

"Kubowa?"

"Exactly." Owen nodded.

"The guys that attacked Freddie were terrified of him afterwards, wouldn't go near him."

"Nobody believed them, obviously." Oscar said. "I mean, who would? This ten-year-old kid they were bullying manages to force them back six feet without touching them? Sure. But one of them broke their arm."

"All three of them got sent to shrinks." Blake nodded.

"You know that cracked stone by the sports entre?" Oscar said.

Harry nodded. The grounds were all kept impeccably tidy and neat, so the one cracked stone slab was conspicuous.

"That's where it happened." Oscar grinned. "Supposedly the 'shockwave' that threw the bullies away cracked the stone."

"You're kidding right?"

Owen shrugged. "That's the rumour anyway. Miller never talks about it. The other two have left."

"Kubowa." Harry breathed. A loud bell rang across the grass.

"Come on." Tyler said.

They climbed off the wall and headed back to the main school. Blake went into the library as they passed, and Tyler broke off when they reached the door, going down a corridor to his music lesson.

"Potter! Vait!"

Harry span and saw Rex jogging down the corridor towards him. He waved to him then looked at the Yates twins. "See you at EM?" He asked. Owen nodded.

"Hey Rex." Harry said as the boy approached.

"Hi." They started walking together towards the classrooms.

"Are you ok?" Rex asked, and Harry started slightly.

"Yeah, why?"

Rex shrugged. "You seem... vierd. Yates as vell. Did something happen?"

"What? No! I mean, nothing happened. I mean, other than a bit of a boring tip, nothing happened." Harry stammered.

Rex gave him an odd look. "Isn't it Tyler birthday today?"

"Yes."

"Did you do something?" Rex asked.

Harry's stomach jolted. "What? No!" He suddenly realised Rex meant for Tyler, and didn't know about Major Gibson. "I mean, yes. We did. I mean, we were outside the Duvalier." He mentally kicked himself. "Sorry. I'm really tired. How was your German lesson?"

The boys chatted as they walked up to Major Kelly's classroom, then Rex knocked on the wooden door. The aging teacher opened it almost immediately and held it open for them.

"Thanks sir." Harry said, standing behind his seat.

"That's quite all right." Major Kelly moved back to his desk at the front of the room. "Do sit down. Zhou came to talk to me earlier. They've both got orthodontist appointments in Llangollen today." He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a small paper folder. "So, I thought we could do a small test to start, then spend the rest of the tip doing some oral practice and talking between the three of us."

He handed Harry and Rex one of the sheets of paper each, then went to the back of the classroom and flicked the kettle on.

Harry took a pencil out of Rex's pencil case, flashing a grin at the other boy, then started working down the worksheet, surprising himself in how much he knew.

Major Kelly seemed rather amused over the next hour, as they chatted in Malayalam and drank coffee, and he let them leave a few minutes early in order to get back to their dorm to change before Evening Meal. Harry thought that it was cruel that they were allowed in civs in the afternoons, but had to wear their uniform to EM, and then were allowed to change again afterwards. He was knotting his tie when Tyler came in, spinning one of his drumsticks in his hand.

Harry glanced at his watch and raised his eyebrows. "You might want to hurry up."

"I know." Tyler huffed, grabbing his school trousers. "Mr. Kay wants me to take my grade eight in like two weeks."

Harry frowned. "I thought you were doing it next term?"

"Exactly." Tyler said, tossing his jeans onto his bed. "I'm probably not ready for it, so he's making me do tons of practice, and going completely overkill on the lessons."

"Fun." Harry grinned.

Tyler sent him a flat look.

Harry just laughed and tossed him his boots, getting a grateful nod in return.

The bell rang as Tyler was doing up his shirt, and he cursed and fumbled with the buttons as he rushed. "Can you grab me some socks?"

Harry opened the drawer under the bed and pulled out a pair of socks, then threw them to Tyler, who quickly pulled them on.

"Oi, Jefferson, Potter!" Fu's voice sounded from just inside the room. "Get a canky move on!"

"Yeah, we're coming!" Harry called. He looped Tyler's tie around his own neck and tied it as Tyler laced up his boots, then took it off and handed it to the older boy, who pulled it over his head and tightened it. They hurried the room, pulling their berets on as they passed Fu, who aimed a kick at Harry to get him moving. Harry dodged the foot and scowled at Fu.

Harry and Tyler slipped into their places in their squad. Nathaniel opened his mouth to say something, a malicious gleam in his eyes, but Brigadier O'Reilly's voice called from the front of the courtyard, and they all stamped to attention.

Oakley was running punishment laps, but everybody else moved to attention when Fu called their names, then they stood in the courtyard as Brigadier O'Reilly made his way around, dismissing squads to their meal.

They stood in the light rain for almost twenty minutes, until finally they were sent into the dining hall. Harry gratefully relaxed from the stiff position he had been stood in, and followed Blake into the warm building.

"Chicken or pasta?" Gladys asked.

Harry peered at the sweaty remains of the pasta and stringy pieces of chicken. "Er, chicken, please."

The dinner lady placed a piece of meat on the moulded plastic tray. "Beans?"

"Please." Harry nodded, then accepted his dinner and headed towards their usual table.

He poured water for himself and Blake, and prodded his chicken with the plastic knife and shook his head. "Got to love being last in." He said, and Blake snorted.

Tyler dropped into the seat next to him with a large helping of pasta and Harry poured him some water.

"Why was Gibson so shacked off earlier?" Harry asked. "He really hates you."

Tyler's reply was somewhere between a smile and a grimace.

"He got his boyfriend fired." Blake said.

Harry glanced at him. "You what?"

"The Latin teacher before major Kelly was a bloke called Faulkner." Blake explained. "He was more of a cank than Hatcher and Atkinson together."

"He was what, fifty? But only a corporal, and really bitter about it." Tyler said. "He was probably just pissed that some students practically had a higher rank than him. Gave ridiculous amounts of banco every lesson, was a sadistic prick that got off on embarrassing students, had obvious favourites, he was that proper 'left handed people have the devil inside' ancient-type, gave out divs and drubbings like they were going out of fashion." He ticked things off on his fingers as he listed them. "Lazy as _fuck_, probably had a thing for half the first rugby team..."

"_Extremely _racist." Blake added, and Tyler nodded.

"Nice guy then." Harry said as Owen and Oscar joined them.

"Anyway, I used to call him out on it in tips." Tyler continued. "He didn't stop, and so I started just walking out of the tips and going to O'Reilly. I think I went to him... nine times before he started taking me seriously, and when he investigated it he realised how much of a cank Faulkner was. Booted him out."

"And he and Gibson were shacking up?" Harry asked.

"Yep." Tyler nodded, spearing a bit of pasta. "So of course Gibson hates me now."

"Of course." Harry nodded.

Tyler shrugged. "He was a cank so I went to a higher authority that could actually do something."

"After getting your arse beaten a couple of times." Oscar grinned. "How many drubbings did you get in the end? Five? Ten?"

Tyler shrugged. "Something like that."

Harry laughed. "Anyone want to go down to the nets after?"

"I've got 25 laps to run before Wednesday," Oscar said, "Or I would."

"Blake?" Harry asked.

Blake shook his head. "I've got to do an essay for Dubois."

Harry laughed. "I'm so glad I'm not in your set any more."

"I'll come." Tyler said.

"Awesome." Harry grinned.

"I think I'll catch up on some work." Owen said.

"Come down!" Harry said.

"I'm good, thanks."

Tyler shrugged. "It's fine, Harry. We'll just go by ourselves. You done?"

Harry looked down at the cold green beans in his plastic tray and wrinkled his nose. "Yeah."

"Come on then." Tyler said, standing up.

Harry followed after him, not understanding the glare Tyler shot Owen, or the innocent look Owen gave him back, but ten minutes later they were down at one of the cricket nets.

Harry crouched behind the wooden posts, watching Tyler as he ran towards him from the other end of the wicket. Tyler swung his arm and launched the red ball, and Harry dived to the side to catch it as it span off to his right.

"Haha!" Tyler cried. "Did you see that one?"

"Yeah." Harry replied, throwing the ball back to him. "Didn't you see my awesome catch?"

"You've got keeping gloves on, it makes it easier." Tyler replied, flashing him a grin.

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. He had been playing cricket for just over a month and was already the first team wicket keeper. "I'll admit it span a lot."

"You bet it did." Tyler said, pacing out his run-up once more. He turned and bowled another ball towards the stumps, hitting leg stump and knocking the bails off. "Howzat!" He cried, throwing his hands up.

"Not out." Harry called, rolling the ball back to him.

"Kubowa?" Tyler said. "Course it's out you biff."

Harry laughed and put the bails back on the stumps, then crouched behind them once more. "We should probably go soon if we don't want to be late for banco."

"One more over." Tyler said, and Harry nodded.

Tyler bowled 6 more balls, the last of which hit the middle stump so hard it knocked the post out of the ground. Harry straightened it, then pulled off his gloves with his teeth as he walked up the wicket.

He put both the gloves and the ball in the cricket pavilion, returning the smile Major Bradford gave him, then started up to the main school with Tyler, who threw an arm around his shoulders.

Harry laughed and threw the arm off. He aimed a punch at Tyler's side, which was easily dodged and retaliated. Soon they were both on the floor laughing, strands of cut grass stuck to their clothes.

Harry climbed to his feet and pulled Tyler up, still laughing, and the two walked back up to the dorm together. Rex peered over the top of his book when they entered, and raised an eyebrow at their flushed faces and dirty clothes, but didn't say anything, and Harry and Tyler disappeared behind their hanging sheets.

"Jesus Christ Harry, do you ever put anything away?" Tyler asked, picking up Harry's school uniform and throwing it at him.

Harry shrugged guiltily. "Occasionally? We can't all be as tidy as you."

Tyler rolled his eyes. "There's untidy and there's you."

Harry picked up a sweatshirt and draped it over the bedpost sarcastically. "Better?"

"Much." Tyler beamed.

Harry shook his head. "I'm way tidier than I was at the start of the year."

"Krana, that's really not hard." Tyler scoffed, and Harry threw a balled up sock at him.


	13. Chapter 13

"Ah, Potter. I'm glad you're a few minutes early, I wanted to talk to you." Professor Kelly said, smiling at Harry who had poked his head into the classroom to see if they could come in.

"Sir?"

"You're not in trouble." Major Kelly said. "Come in, come in."

Harry stepped inside, and Tyler followed him. He sat at their usual desk as Harry stood by Major Kelly's desk. He was flicking through the papers in his desk drawer, and finally pulled out a thin booklet.

"I'd like you to do this for me today." Major Kelly said, holding up the papers.

"Is it a test, sir?"

"Of sorts." Major Kelly said. "Think of it as a... progress check." He stood up and lead Harry back out of the classroom to a single desk in the hallway facing the wall that was usually used if somebody was being particularly disruptive in class. "It should take you an hour and three quarters. You don't get extra time do you?"

"No sir. But, I've got French-"

Major Kelly nodded. "I've talked to Mr. Clarke. He is happy for you to miss his lesson, as long as you catch up on the work you miss. I would recommend going to him and thanking him as well."

Harry nodded and Major Kelly set the paper on the desk. Harry dropped into the chair in front of it and put his books on the floor, setting his pencil case in front of him.

"Do go in." Major Kelly said, waving at the class lined up against the wall before turning back to Harry. "Don't use your notes, and don't worry if you find it difficult, just do your best, ok?"

Harry nodded, pulling out a pencil, and Major Kelly smiled at him before following the class into his room and shutting the door.

Harry scrawled his name at the top of the first page, then began working through the questions. He was pleasantly surprised when he could answer the majority of the questions in the first section without too much bother. He skipped a few of the harder ones, planning on coming back to them at the end, and was part way through the translation in the second part when doors started opening along the corridor.

He received a few jeers and taunts for working in the 'naughty chair', but ignored them as best he could, trying to concentrate on the paper in front of him.

"Hey, Harry, tip's over." Tyler said, leaning against the wall next to him.

"I've got to do this." Harry said. "Clarke knows."

"Move along now Private Jefferson." Major Kelly said, coming out of his classroom.

As Tyler went down the corridor to his French classroom, Harry turned back to the translation, frowning slightly.

He had only written six more words when the noise of sixty boys heading to tips came down the corridor again as they started lining up against the walls. Major Kelly once more stepped out of his room. "Shut it!" He called down the corridor, and the noise reduced somewhat. "You have forty minutes left, Potter."

Harry nodded and scrawled a rough approximation of what he thought the last few sentences might be then flipped over the page.

His stomach sank at the sight of the first question. What the hell was an accusative pronoun? He chewed on the end of his pencil before noticing there were a few easier English into Latin sentences and he moved onto them, seeing that they were worth six and seven marks each.

Major Kelly came out of his classroom and Harry hurriedly scribbled down some random words as answers for the questions above, in the hopes that one of them might be correct.

"Put your pencil down."

Harry quickly wrote in the last word, then dropped his pencil with a sigh.

"How was that?" Major Kelly asked, picking up the paper and flicking through it with a smile.

"It wasn't too bad, sir. The translations were all right, I think, but I had no idea about most of the last section." Harry answered. "I ran out of time, too."

Major Kelly nodded. "I thought that's what you'd find most difficult. I can mark it now, if you want."

"Er, sure. I mean, please, sir." Harry nodded, picking up his folders and following Major Kelly back into the classroom.

"Help yourself to a biscuit." The stiff said, nodding towards the tin on top of the filing cabinet. Harry had to stand on his tiptoes to reach it, but he opened the tin and took a custard cream, then sat at the desk directly in front of Major Kelly's desk and nervously watched the man's facial expressions as he marked the test.

"Well, I'd say you've done rather well." He said a few minutes later, handing back the paper. Harry glanced at the front page and saw a large green 64% scrawled at the top. "Considering this was an O level paper I sprang on you with no warning."

Harry looked up. "O level? Sir?"

Major Kelly nodded. "I wanted to see if it was worth putting you in for the exam." He gestured to the paper Harry was holding. "I think it's safe to say it is, especially seeing as ordinarily you'd have two hours to do it in."

Harry looked at the back pages, noting the number of large green crosses next to his answers.

"Would I be correct in assuming that you guessed most of those answers?"

Harry nodded and scratched the back of his neck. "Yes, sir."

"I thought so." Major Kelly nodded. "It's better than just leaving it blank, but we'll have to do some work on those questions."

"I just don't have any idea what most of these words mean, sir." Harry said. "Like, 'accusative'... 'passive'... what does it mean when it asks what case a word is in?"

"That's stuff you've generally cover before you come to Coleshill, as most boys arrive age thirteen, and have done some Latin already. I haven't gone over it in any of your lessons because this is set three, and some boys are working towards an A level." Major Kelly explained. "Basically, in Latin, words are slightly different depending on their context in a sentence. For example, 'puella' means 'the girl', but 'puellae' means 'of the girl'; 'the dog of the girl', for example, or, in better English, the girl's dog. You understand?"

"Yes sir." Harry nodded.

"This is because 'puellae' is in the _dative case_. The word has a different ending that slightly alters its meaning. That's what you're reciting when you say 'puella puella puellam, puallae puellae puellas'."

For the next ten minutes, Major Kelly went over the meaning of each case, explaining it to Harry and answering his questions.

"When do you have, say... an hour of free time each week?"

"Well, I have pop on a Sunday afternoon." Harry replied.

Major Kelly nodded. "Perfect. Every Sunday after lunch, I want you to come here so we can go over this basic stuff that you've missed. It's not _too _much of a problem if you still don't understand it fully, because you can choose between these questions and the English into Latin, but a general understanding of the theory will help you greatly later on, and this will help you get the correct endings if you do do that instead. I'd also like to make sure you've got a solid grasp of all of the classics, as almost all of the translations are at least based on the myths and stories, and so if you know what you're writing about before you've even started that always helps."

"Yes sir. Thank you."

"Not at all." Major Kelly smiled. "We're going to get you an A in Latin five years early, hey?"

Harry laughed as he stood up. "Thank you, Mr. Kelly."

"Professor." The man replied. "I worked hard for that PhD, I'll have you respect that, thank you very much."

"Sorry sir."

Harry met Rex coming out of a history lesson, and walked back to the dorm with him, dropping his books on his desk.

"What were you doing during French?" Tyler asked.

"A practice O level paper." Harry replied, unable to stop the proud smile that spread across his face.

"O level?" Tyler repeated, eyebrows raised, and Harry nodded. "How'd you do?"

"64%." Harry grinned. "But I only got an hour and forty-five minutes when usually you get 2 hours."

Tyler flashed Harry one of his rare smiles and pulled him into a one-armed hug. "That's good. Are you doing it this year?"

Harry nodded. "Major Kelly thinks I should."

"That's great." Tyler said, pulling his military tactics folder off the shelf. "That's what? Three years early?"

"Five." Harry grinned. "I'm only in year six."

"Nice going titch." Tyler said, pulling him into a sideways hug as they left the dorm.

The twenty-first of May was a good day for Harry.

Not only did he have six good lessons, but looking at the menu pinned up outside the dining hall told him that the meals were good (chicken curry at lunch and shepherd's pie for dinner), and he also managed to finish the morning run seventh in the whole school, competing against people up to eight years older than him.

He waited at the door for Tyler to catch up, panting hard but feeling extremely pleased with himself. When Tyler finally arrived, sweat was glistening on his bare chest and his pale face was flushed red from the exertion. It was crazy how extreme the weather was in Llangollen; many boys ran in just their shorts in the summer, compared to January when Harry had run with his Tottenham scarf wrapped around his neck and face.

"What the trank man?" Tyler panted, grinning. "You could have told me you were secretly a crazy-runner person."

"That makes no sense." Harry rolled his eyes and laughed, and the two boys went up to the dorm together to shower.

"You've got your kit exam today right?" Harry asked as he tied his tie.

Tyler nodded. "1412."

"What the trank?" Harry laughed. "Why not just ten past?"

"ABRSM are weird." Tyler replied, shaking his head. "I have to be there twenty minutes early anyway."

"Well, good luck." Harry said, pulling on his boots.

They were two of the first down to breakfast, and Harry happily accepted the tray of hot porridge from Gladys before making his way over to their usual table.

Tyler pushed his porridge around with his spoon, staring at a stain on the table.

"Ty?" Harry asked, and the older boy looked up. "You ok? You're all winkered."

"Yeah, just nervous."

"About your exam?"

Tyler nodded.

"You'll be fine!" Harry said. "I've seen you practice, you're great!"

Tyler frowned. "When have you seen me practice?"

Harry felt himself flush. "Oh, er, I don't know. Just, sometimes?"

Tyler grinned. "You've been spying on me when I'm practicing."

"Well, not _really._"

Tyler laughed. "You totally have!"

"Oh shut up." Harry hid his face in his hands.

"Aw, titch, it's cute." Tyler said, ruffling Harry's short hair.

"Don't call me titch." Harry said half-heartedly, batting the arm away. It was more reflex now; he had given up on that particular battle months ago. "But at least you get to miss sport. It's going to be boiling later."

Tyler laughed. "Have fun in your helmet and pads and gloves."

Harry shook his head. "Yeah, thanks."

"I'll be thinking of you in the air conditioned music school, as I drink my glass of cold water." Tyler continued.

"You're a cank." Harry stated, eating his breakfast.

Tyler laughed and bumped Harry's shoulder. Harry ignored him, staring straight ahead, but couldn't stop the grin that spread across his face. Tyler nudged his arm again and Harry rolled his eyes. Tyler then started elbowing him gently, and leant on him with a grin, and Harry pushed him off, laughing.

"Get off me!"

"Get a room." Blake moaned, dropping into the seat opposite Harry.

Tyler flushed and flipped Blake off, then groaned as Lieutenant Atkinson called across the room.

"Five laps and a tardy, Jefferson."

"Cank." Tyler muttered as Blake hid his laugh.

Harry put on a serious face and straightened his tie. "Well private Jefferson, you really shouldn't make such crude hand gestures. They're unseemly."

"Ugh, you sound like my father." Tyler said, pulling a face.

Harry laughed and glanced at the clock on the wall. "I'm not used to having this much time in the mornings. We've got ages."

Tyler smirked. "Not like the first term when we'd only be getting in ten minutes before tips started."

"If that." Blake said.

Harry finished his porridge and stood up. "I might go and have a quick nap." He grinned.

Tyler shook his head. "I guess you do need your beauty sleep."

"You biff." Harry said, shaking his head and leaving the table with his tray.

Harry dropped onto his bed when he reached the dorm, not even registering Bhandi's remark. Presumably it was something witty and scathing.

Although he didn't have a nap, he grabbed Tyler's iPod and lost track of time listening to the music, and had to scramble to get his books together as the bell sounded for the start of lessons.

Harry put his beret on one-handed as they ran down to the classrooms and parted in the corridor, and slipped into Mr. Clarke's classroom just as he was about to shut the door.

"That's a tardy." He said as he dropped into his seat, then began lecturing in French about that day's tip.

Harry could see Tyler getting more and more antsy and nervous as the day went on, and had to force him to eat at lunch.

"Krana, _chill_." He said, putting a hand over Tyler's tapping fingers to stop the noise. "You'll be fine: Distinction, I guarantee."

Tyler shook his head. "I'm canked. I'm not going to pass." He rested his head in his hands. "Why did I even agree to do the exam this term?"

"Because you've been playing these pieces for over a year." Harry said, reciting what Tyler had been telling him for over six months. "Because you're going to crush this exam."

Harry only managed to persuade him to eat a few mouthfuls or rice and half a piece of naan bread before they were dismissed by Colonel Hatcher, who gave Tyler a tardy for wasting food.

Harry changed into his sports kit when they reached c-dorm, then he walked with Tyler over to the brick music school.

"Good luck." He whispered, giving Tyler a small hug. "I'll see you in the dorm later. You'll do great!"

Tyler just swallowed and nodded, trying to give him a small smile, and Harry ran down to the cricket pitches. He worried about Tyler's exam for the whole four hours he was meant to be concentrating on cricket, fumbling catches and getting bowled out on his second ball.

"That was an easy four Potter!" Mr. Smoke shouted as Harry pulled off his helmet. "What's wrong with you?"

"Sorry sir." Harry said.

"Take a lap." Mr. Smoke said, and Harry finished packing his batting kit into the bag before setting off around the large pond, ignoring the jeers from his teammates.

Harry flicked his hair out of his face as he walked into c-dorm, and spotted Tyler sat at his desk doing maths homework.

"How did it go?"

Tyler's smile was answer enough, but he launched into a blow-by-blow explanation of how the pieces had gone and what the examiner had asked in the aural questions. Harry didn't understand half of the musical terminology, but he smiled and nodded each time Tyler took a break from speaking.

"Congrats then." Harry grinned when he had finished, and Tyler laughed and nodded.

"I have to wait around six weeks to get the results." Tyler said, packing away his work.

"Cool." Harry nodded, pulling off his shirt.

"How have you not been sent down to the Ark yet?" Tyler asked.

Harry frowned. "What for? Oh, my hair? Yeah, no idea. I want to see who the first person to say something will be. My money's on Kelly."

"You haven't got any money."

"It's a figure of speech." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, I though Professor Kelly loved you." Tyler dropped onto Harry's bed. "You're amazing at Latin."

"He likes me in lessons, but he's serious about bills and trank." Harry shrugged. "He's sent me to Captain Adcock twice this year."

"I reckon Pearson." Tyler said.

"Ty, he doesn't even teach me." Harry laughed. "I've got sergeant Kent for maths now."

"Yeah but he still sees you around campus."

"I guess." Harry shrugged, pulling on his beret just as the bell rang for E.M.

"I'm rooping." Tyler said, grabbing his own beret.

Harry laughed. "That's because you didn't eat anything at lunch."

Blake was holding a stack of flashcards as they waited outside to be registered, and when they were in the dining hall, Harry noticed that lots of people had notes or textbooks at the tables, and he realised that they were all taking O levels or A-levels over the next few weeks. His stomach lurched when he realised that _he _would be one of those people.

He looked at Tyler, who had dived into his shepherd's pie with glee. "Are you doing any exams?"

"Well, yeah, I just had my drum one."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I mean like O levels."

Tyler nodded. "Chemistry, physics and biology."

"Is that it?"

"Yeah. I've already done French, and I'm doing most of the rest next year." Tyler explained.

"I didn't know you were that good at French."

Tyler nodded then grinned. "You should talk to Blake. He did his maths A-level when he was thirteen. He's doing his physics, history and business this year, and _re_doing further maths, because he only got a B last year. He was gutted."

"What the trank?" Harry laughed. "Thirteen?"

"He passed ze O level in primary school." Rex said. "He's crazy good at maths."

"Why didn't you tell me that when I got divved for failing that banco on probability?" Harry asked Tyler.

"Because it's so much more fun watching you suffer." Tyler said.

"Biff." Harry muttered.

Tyler wiggled his eyebrows, causing Harry to snort and almost choke on his mouthful of food. Rex thumped him on the back and Harry straightened, laughing.

"You are one special kid." Tyler laughed, shaking his head.

"You know you love me."

Tyler rolled his eyes. "Right."

Harry suddenly frowned. "We don't have kitchen duty tonight do we?"

Owen had just sat down next to him. "You guys are on Friday."

"Thank God." Harry said. "No way I'd be able to finish all my banco if we did."

"How come?" Rex asked.

"I've got that History essay, 500 words for Clarke, two separate bio sheets, plus I need to revise for Latin, and I've got a week's worth of laundry duty after EM from Doctor Norwood." Harry replied.

Owen looked up from his chemistry textbook. "What for?"

"Dropping a pencil and getting up to pick it up." Harry answered bitterly.

Tyler rolled his eyes. "Not quite what happened."

"It is!" Harry said. "I dropped my pencil and it rolled away, so I stood up, and he just said 'Potter, I've had enough of your nonsense today!' and gave me a canky ridiculous punishment."

"He was fidgeting all tip." Tyler said to Owen's raised eyebrows. "I thought puddles was going to stab him or something it was so annoying."

"I was not that irritating." Harry said. "Forsyth is used to it."

Tyler laughed. "Anyone who has ever spent more than five minutes with you knows you're practically ADHD." He said.

"I think the word you're looking for is annoying." Oscar said.

"Rude." Harry said, grinning at him.

"True." Oscar replied in the same tone.


	14. Chapter 14

14.

Harry walked out of the sports hall feeling rather good, other than the cramp in his right hand. None of his friends had been in the Latin exam, so he wasn't subjected to the 'what did you get for question 4' conversations going on around him, but he was fairly certain he had done well in the translations, and the comprehension hadn't been too difficult...

Either way, he was glad that he had finished the exam. Three papers spread over two weeks had been more nerve-wracking than he would have thought, and he was ready to relax for the final four weeks of term. They had had a 0500 PT session on the morning of his second paper as well, which Harry thought was simply cruel.

Tyler was in C-dorm when he got back, having finished his physics paper half an hour earlier. He stood up and gave Harry a quick congratulatory hug, and grinned down at him.

"How was it?"

Harry shrugged. "Fine, I think. Not terrible, but I don't think I got an A."

Tyler waved a hand. "Bet you aced it."

Harry grinned and just shrugged again, loosening his tie.

"We're doing a celebratory swim in the pond." Tyler said. "Now exams are over. You in?"

"Sure." Harry nodded. "Who's we?"

"The whole squad. I think Chen might even be coming." Tyler said.

"Cool." Harry said, dropping onto his bed.

Tyler nodded. "Yeah, skinny dipping in the school pond in the middle of the night is generally a laugh after exams."

"Skinny dipping?" Harry repeated.

"It's sort of a tradition." Tyler said. "We've done it every year I've been here, at least. Saturday after exams are done."

"Right."

"Aw, come in, it's fun!" Tyler laughed. "It's dark, you don't need to worry about Oakley seeing your ding-dong."

"Ding-dong?" Harry repeated, laughing.

Tyler shrugged. "Yates has got Russian on Friday, but that's the last exam, so the plan is to go this Saturday."

Harry nodded, just as the bell rang outside the dorm to signal the start of lunch. He reluctantly straightened his tie and they hurried down to the courtyard, where they slipped into formation just as Brigadier O'Reilly called "Company-shun!" and the boys stamped to attention.

Although the last of the O level and A-level exams were over, the stiffs were still working them as hard as ever in tips, although nobody was really in the mood to work. By the end of one biology tip, Lieutenant Atkinson had handed out a total of 165 laps and 500 hours' worth of duty to boys who weren't concentrating.

Mr. Smoke and Mr. Little made them do circuits in the sun for six hours after lunch, and that seemed to sap most of the more boisterous boys' energy. They traipsed back to their dorms almost an hour later than normal and showered off the sweat and dust before heading down for EM.

The dining hall was much noisier than usual, full of people celebrating the end of exams, and for a few of the pupils their last four weeks at Coleshill Academy. Despite still having to work up to the end of term, most of the boys were in good spirits, laughing and joking and shoving each other around.

Most of bravo squad were excited for their traditional midnight swim, and none of them could properly concentrate on their banco, but it hardly mattered, as f-dorm seemed to have somehow gotten hold of at least 2 bottles of vodka, and were stumbling around and trying to climb the curtains before Major Bradford arrived and hauled them all off to the brigadier.

"That's a bugger." Tyler said, listening to Major Bradford screaming at the corporal on duty. "They're going to keep checking the rest of us to make sure we haven't got any as well."

Harry got into bed with Tyler at the usual time when the lights turned off, and they lay watching a movie, hiding it under the duvet when stiffs opened the door to check they were asleep.

"Shall we go?" Javid hissed, some time around midnight.

"At least another hour." Tyler whispered back. "Norwood won't have left until midnight, and we've got to leave time after that."

"I know that." Bhandi snapped.

At 0116, the door to the bathroom opened, and Nat appeared in the middle of their dorm. "You canks haven't chickened out have you?"

"We were waiting to make sure the stiffs had all gone." Tyler replied, rolling his eyes even though Nat couldn't see him.

"Yeah, well, we may as well go." Nat said. "Bradford and Pearson left at like 2330."

"And Norwood?" Tyler asked, rolling out of bed.

"Hasn't been in for at least an hour." Nat replied.

They boys pulled on jumpers and boots in the dark, then left the dorm and quietly made their way down to the main reception, meeting up with Chen as thy did so. Rex had wedged the door open with a piece of folded paper in the mechanical lock earlier in the day, and they all slipped outside into the clear night, running across the grounds to the pond. They went around to the far side to minimise the risk of being caught, then left all their clothes in a heap under a tree.

Harry shivered as a gentle breeze blew over the group, a strange contrast to his heated face. "How deep is it?" He whispered to Tyler, arms crossed over his stomach.

"I can stand up right in the middle." Tyler replied reassuringly. "You'll be fine. Remember that PT last month? You can swim!"

Harry nodded uncertainly but made no move to step closer to the pitch black water.

"Come on Jefferson!" Turk called.

"Wuss much Potter?" Nathaniel jeered.

Harry grit his teeth and took a small step forward. Tyler took his hand with a smile and pulled him the rest of the way into the water, causing him to tip forwards and go under. Harry came up spluttering and gasping for air, but managed to join in the laughter, wading in to above his waist.

Harry splashed Tyler back, and soon they were all having a large water fight, laughing and ducking under the water. After a while, Chen brought out a large glass bottle, to cheers and whoops from the others.

"Good old Jack!" Nathaniel laughed.

They all clambered out of the pond and collapsed on the bank, then passed around the bottle, all taking a large swig before handing it on.

"How'd you get this trank in?" Owen asked.

Chen just grinned. "As if I'd tell you."

Rex gasped as he swallowed the liquid, then passed the bottle to Harry.

"What is this stuff?" He asked, sniffing the top and recoiling.

"Whiskey." Tyler replied.

"Just drink or pass it on." Jones complained.

Scowling, Harry raised the bottle to his lips and took a large sip, coughing as the liquid burned his throat. He passed the bottle to Tyler, pulling a face, and the other boys all burst out laughing. "That tastes like really old apple juice or something." Harry gasped, sticking out his tongue. That didn't stop him from taking a swig every time the bottle passed him as the ten naked boys messed around in the pond, laughing and fighting and relaxing after exams.

Bravo squad swam in the pond and chased each other around it, but Harry stayed mostly sat in the water at the edge. As he drank more of the Jack Daniels, Harry felt his confidence growing, and after a while he waded out towards Tyler, who was floating lazily in the middle of the pond. He had to swim the last few metres as the water got deeper, but then flicked a handful of pondweed at Tyler's head from behind.

"Oh, you cank!" Tyler said, turning around and pulling the plant off his head, before sweeping his arm through the water and sending a wave at Harry's face.

Harry saw the dark water rushing at him, and could do nothing more than squeeze his eyes shut before it crashed into him, rushing into his mouth and going up his nose. He tried to stand up, but the muddy ground was too far under his feet, and his head went under, causing him to swallow another mouthful of water. Harry began to panic.

He couldn't breathe. He didn't even know which way was up. He swallowed another mouthful of water as he tried to cough, his chest constricting painfully.

Suddenly he felt an arm around his chest, and then his head broke the surface and he could spit out the water in his mouth, coughing and gagging.

"Hey, hey, you ok?"

Harry nodded as he coughed up more pond water. He felt a hand gently rubbing his back, and realised that Tyler was holding him above the water with an arm under his legs, the other rubbing his back as he coughed.

"Thanks." Harry whispered, resting his forehead on Tyler's shoulder.

"Don't worry." Tyler replied quietly, but Harry thought his voice sounded strange.

Harry coughed again, and let his heartbeat come back down to normal, still pressed tight against Tyler. A thick stick between them was poking into his leg, but he couldn't be bothered to move it, enjoying the faint swaying motion as Tyler walked slowly around the pond. He stopped on the far side, away from the others who were having another water fight, now fuelled by alcohol, and looked up at the school, the occasional window lit from within in the aerie.

Harry suddenly realised quite how close together he and Tyler were, pressed together with water up to their ribs. He shifted, and Tyler grunted, before letting go of him and walking towards the shore, where he sat down in the shallows. Harry dropped down next to him, resolutely not looking at the older boy. They sat in companionable silence for a while, until Blake swam over to them.

"We've got to go now." He said, stood in the water a few metres in front of them. "It's already 0450."

Tyler looked at his watch in surprise. "Kubowa. We've been here three hours?"

"Apparently." Blake nodded. "We're all going to be winkered tomorrow."

Tyler grinned as he stood up. "How much do you want to bet Jones goes on aeger?"

Blake laughed. "Not taking that one."

Harry walked around the outside of the pond to his clothes, and dressed quickly, shivering slightly in the breeze.

Harry was too used to sneaking around at night to be bothered by the silent corridors, but it was always slightly creepy to see the school so dark and empty.

They all headed for the shower to rinse of the mud and pondweed that still clung to them before collapsing into bed.

Harry felt like his head had only just touched the pillow when the bell rang outside the dorm. Judging by everybody else's groans and shadowed eyes they felt the same.

They had Latin first lesson, and after giving the rest of the class a worksheet Major Kelly drew Harry to one side to ask him about his exams.

"I think it went quite well sir." Harry admitted. "There were a couple of words that I know I got wrong in the translation in paper 2, because I looked them up afterwards, but in general I think I did alright."

"What about the grammar questions?"

"I did the English to Latin instead." Harry replied. "I'm pretty sure I got them mostly right."

Major Kelly raised his eyebrows. "Mostly?"

"Well, I can't know if I got 100%, but I'm pretty sure I used the right cases and endings."

"Well, congratulations." Major Kelly said, resting a hand momentarily on Harry's shoulder. "We'll see how you do, but I've been thinking about moving you up into a higher set, with the boys doing A-level. We do some ancient Greek in those classes as well, which I think you'd be good at."

"Thank you, sir." Harry said.

"You have a natural talent for ancient languages, it seems," Major Kelly said. "Combined with an actual appreciation for the subject. Many boys don't see the point in learning a dead language, but I find that Latin especially can be rather useful in understanding the world around you, don't you think?"

"Er, I guess so sir. I've never really thought about it." Harry replied.

Major Kelly handed him a worksheet on derivations of words. "Well, do get on with your work, I've kept you long enough."

Harry slipped into his seat and worked his way through the questions until Major Kelly told them to start packing up, then walked with Robert McKinnley to Mr. Clarke's classroom.

Over the year the French classes had gotten steadily more difficult, and Harry had dropped down four more sets since February. He didn't really mid, as most of the boys in his original set had already taken their O level exams. The only downside was he didn't really know any of the 4 other boys in his new class, and none of them were the kind of people he could just walk up to and introduce himself, so he spent the majority of the lessons working quietly by himself at the back.

Their instructions were written on the whiteboard, and Harry started the comprehension as the rest of the class took their time taking out pencils and opening their exercise books.

"Hurry up please boys." Mr. Clarke called from the front of the classroom. "Don't forget to put the date and title."

"What even is the date today?" Harry asked the boy sitting next to him.

"25th." Came the curt reply.

Tyler was waiting for him outside the classroom at the end of the tip, and they walked back to C-dorm together to get their military skills and tactics folders. Milskil and tac lessons were one of the more unusual parts of Coleshill; the only lesson taught in squads rather than set by ability. They were probably also some of the more interesting lessons: As well as practicing drill and weapons' handling, they were taught first aid, commanded mock battles on a huge table top, learnt how to tie knots and set snares, read maps and planned hypothetical routes through field and down rivers, discussed past battles; _'Why did Napoleon move his troops here?' 'How could Bernard Montgomery have used the terrain to his advantage?' 'How did the British win at Plassey despite being outnumbered almost 15:1?'_ They had been told they would be moving on from discussing strategy in chess last tip, and Harry was excited to find out what they would be doing next.

Thirty minutes later, he had changed his mind. He frowned as he tried to focus on the taps coming from the other side of the open folder propped up on the table, blocking out the clicks and scrapes sounding around the room. Morse code was a bugger to understand at the best of times, and trying to focus on the noises one boy with a pencil was making in a room full of 30 people was taking his full concentration.

"3000 enemy soldiers camped in fortified trenches on the Eastern side of the church?" Harry asked, looking over the top of the folder.

Tyler dropped his pencil and nodded. "Your turn."

"These sentences are so weird." Harry said, shaking his head.

Tyler laughed. "What do you expect? It's Smoke. They're all going to be some kind of battle simulation."

"True." Harry grinned. "At least we're not drawing up battle plans any more."

Tyler laughed. "Just because your tactics are so bad."

"Probably true." Harry shrugged, picking up his ruler and tapping it on the table.

Twenty minutes later, they had translated all of the sentences on the worksheet they had been given into and out of Morse code, and Harry and Tyler left together. They had finished five minutes before the lesson was scheduled to end, but they were by no means the first to leave, and so they walked slowly back to C-dorm from the classroom.

Harry saw Sergeant Kent heading down the corridor towards them and gave a small groan.

"Private Potter." Sergeant Kent said, stopping in front of them and blocking Harry's way down the corridor.

"Yes sir." Harry said, moving to stand to attention.

"I still haven't had your banco." Sergeant Kent said, looking down his long nose. "I told you to bring it to me before the weekend."

"Sorry Sir." Harry said. "It's in my dorm, if you want me to go and get it?"

Sergeant Kent nodded. "If it's on my desk before lunch then I won't give you a div."

"Yes sir."

"Private Jefferson, you may continue." Sergeant Kent said to Tyler, who moved from attention and turned on his heel, glancing over his shoulder just before he turned the corner. "At ease, private." Sergeant Kent said, and Harry relaxed to his hands behind his back. "The thing is Potter, this isn't the first time this has happened. I understand that you were under some pressure taking an O level early, but a lot of other boys were in you position and they still manage to hand in their banco on time, and you're not exactly having that problem any more, are you?"

"No sir." Harry said, slightly irritated.

"I'm not going to give you laps, but I do expect you to start taking some responsibility and organising yourself better." Sergeant Kent continued.

"Yes sir." Harry repeated.

"Good. I will be in my classroom until 1215. If you can get your banco to me by then, you will only receive a tardy, but if I still don't have it by next tip, you're going to be in detention."

"Yes sir."

"Dismissed." Sergeant Kent nodded, and Harry snapped to attention before hurrying down the corridor. He started running up towards is dorm, but was stopped on the stairs by a shout.

"Potter!"

Groaning, Harry moved to attention and waited as Major Bradford walked towards him.

"Sorry sir." He tried.

Major Bradford raised an eyebrow. "So you _do _know what you were doing is against the rules. As you have so much energy, why don't you take 10 laps?"

"Yes sir." Harry said.

"Dismissed."

Harry walked up the stairs, but as soon as Major Bradford was out of earshot, he began sprinting to C-dorm. Tyler was sitting at his desk, and Harry gave him a brief smile before grabbing the maths worksheet.

He ran to Sergeant Kent's classroom, only slowing to a walk when he heard Major Bradford and Mr. Callahan talking as they walked up a set of stairs, not wanting any more laps.

He knocked on the door and stepped into the classroom, walking over to the man's desk and handing him the papers. Sergeant Kent glanced up at the clock on the wall, and Harry span to look as well.

"Only just." Sergeant Kent said, raising his eyebrows. "If you hand in your banco late again I will have to start divving you, Potter."

"Yes sir."

"Dismissed."


End file.
